


Stay Alive

by orphan_account



Category: Markiplier (YouTube RPF), Youtube RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Apocalypse, Both warnings for chapters 9 and 10, F/M, Minor Character Death, Warning for mentioned cannibalism, Warning for mentioned rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 42,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2015. The year everything went dark. You weren't sure how many people had died, but it was billions. And you? You were stranded far away from home. You were fine, thankfully, but your friends were dead, you had no survival skills, and you were alone. Until you bump into the very man who got you stranded in this shithole in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's The End Of The World As We Know It

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! I've been writing this for a while for just me and I decided that because I'm getting stagnant with my other series, I wanted to do another one! And what better than a post apocalyptic situation, a lá Survivors?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've just flown all the way to LA from London for San Diego Comic-con and you've met up with your old friends from New York. This should be a trip to remember!

"[Y/N]!" a call met your ears and you turned around in the airport to look at whoever was yelling at you. You could see your friends waving and you grinned ecstatically, practically skipping over to them as your suitcase glided smoothly across the shining airport floor.

"Kayla! Adam! Nina! J!" you grinned widely at your friends, embracing them tightly. It had been so long since the five of you had last met up - back before you moved to the UK, that was. Seeing your old school gang again was amazing, especially after you had conceded that you were probably never going to see them again.

"It's good to see you, [Y/N]!" Nina grinned as you pulled back from the hug. She looked beautiful; dark hair and skin and the brightest green eyes you had ever seen, and she was in a gorgeous green dress, with thin spaghetti straps and a skirt made of a floaty, flowing material. Her hair was in tight locs and pulled back into a loose bun, gold clips catching the light as she moved. "How have you been?"

"I've been great!" you smiled as your group began to walk through the airport, glad to stretch your legs after two long flights. "I love London but I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss New York."

"Well, duh," Adam said, bumping you in the shoulder. He was tall and muscular, with short hair that was dyed a deep blue - when you had first met him in high school, he had seemed your typical jock. Muscles, sports wear and so forth, but deep down, he was a giant, dumb nerd. The two of you had almost dated at one point, but there were no hard feelings between you and Adam now. At least on your side. "I mean, we're not in London."

"Adam, please." J chastised with a frown. J had been one of your first friends, and they had moved to New York at the same time as you, except they had moved all the way from India. Second grade would have been even more scary if not for them, and you had been by their side for most of the year until you and J had managed to make other friends. "I'm sure London is awesome, right?"

"We really ought to fly to London so you can show us the sights!" Kayla grinned. Kayla was, as far as you could remember, Mexican, with tanned skin and straight brown hair, done up in pigtails. You recalled going around to her family's for Cinco de Mayo one year before you left, remembering how absolutely smashed your parents had gotten. Embarrassing, but now you were an adult, also hilarious.

"You have to!" you said excitedly, spinning on your heel so you could walk backwards and watch them all. "I'm not sure you could all crash at home, though. My house in London is about a fifth the size of my parents old apartment in New York."

"Are you kidding?" J asked with a gasp, eyebrows raised. "I'd heard that England had small houses, but wow, I didn't think it was true."

"Oh, it is." you said, patting J's shoulder as you span back around, laughing. "Teeny tiny houses. But anyway, we're not here to talk about houses! San Diego Comic Con, bitches!" you exclaimed, punching the air in excitement.

"Hell yeah!" Adam said as he loaded your suitcase into his car. "Even if we're staying in LA, it's gonna be fucking awesome! Who are you guys looking forward to seeing most?"

"Uh, George RR Martin?" Kayla said, as if the answer was obvious.

"Patrick Stewart, definitely." J replied after a moment of thought.

"Hm, I'm not sure! I'm just looking forward to it." Nina said with a shrug.

"I think... Markiplier." you said after a moment of thought. Adam gave you a funny look as you got into the car.

"That idiot YouTuber? Oh, come on. PewdiePie is so much better!" he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he put on his seatbelt.

"Uh, excuse me?" you gave him a funny look, putting a hand on your chest in mock offence. "PewdiePie is annoying as heck. Markiplier is funny and genuine, and doesn't make disgusting jokes." you huffed as Adam set off from the airport to your hotel, waving your hand nonchalantly. "Besides, Markiplier lives in LA. I'm gonna be in the same city as my favourite YouTuber! And I'm hopefully gonna meet him! Don't you rain on my god damn parade, Adam." you stuck out your tongue and Adam huffed good naturedly.

You caught up with your friends before you pulled up to the hotel, exchanging stories about the things that had happened since you'd moved away. Adam was in college, studying fine arts whilst also on the football team. Nina was a model - and earning a lot, too. J was helping to run their mother's café business in the big NYC, and was already assistant manager, and Kayla was in medical school, training to be a paediatrician. When you mentioned you were an emergency technician at a London hospital, all four of them started to bug you about exciting stories - as they'd obviously been watching too much drama about London, and you assured them it wasn't _that_ bad.

When you finally reached the hotel, you got your key and headed up to your room. The five of you were all on the same floor, but whilst Kayla, Adam, J and Nina were going to head off for some sight seeing, you were exhausted - long haul flights from Los Angeles to London were not something you would have ever done for fun, so you waved them off and collapsed on the bed in your room, reaching lazily for the remote and turning on the TV, to a breaking news story.

"--yone you know shows any flu-like symptoms, please isolate them immediately. Remain in your homes unless you must leave. Reports from China are coming in that thousands of people have die--" you groaned (wholly underestimating what the newsreader had been talking about) as you turned off the TV and laid face down, falling asleep.

Little did you know that a storm was heading your way as you happily slept until your friends got back. Even when Adam started to sniffle and cough when the five of you went out for dinner, and even when you went to the con. You had met Mark, Bob and Wade and you were still riding off your high when the five of you ate in J's room.

"I'm gonna... go to bed," Adam groaned, rubbing his forehead. "I feel like shit." he said.

"You look it," Nina said, standing up. "Come on. Let's get you to your room." Nina said, lifting a pale Adam up and taking him from the room.

"Sorry, [Y/N]. I know you were looking forward to hanging out tomorrow, but..." Adam trailed off and sneezed loudly. "Sorry."

"It's okay, dude. You concentrate on feeling better, yeah?" you said as Adam left, turning to Kayla and J. "I better call it a night. The jetlag's still got her claws in me."

"All right, see you tomorrow, [Y/N]." Kayla said with a smile. You nodded to her, standing and leaving the room, closing the door behind you with a soft _click_. You walked through the corridor, avoiding a puddle of sick on the floor (was that Adam? Gross.) and returning to your room. You had a hot shower, sitting underneath the running water before you collapsed in your bed again, turning on the TV.

"--ore reports of deaths outside of China have been reported. Airports across the world have been closed and flights have been cancelled." you gasped. Cancelled? How were you supposed to get home in two days? "A state of emergency has been declared in--." your eyes widened as you finally started paying attention. You were out of money, you needed to be at the airport by five am, and the borders were closed? You had no family left in the US - near enough everyone had emigrated to the UK or were so distant you couldn't even remember their first names.

You looked back at the TV. "People are advised to wash their hands after touching another person and to avoid contact with the sick at all costs. Symptoms are flu-like, with coughing, sneezing and vomiting, and a high fever. If you come into contact with someone with those symptoms, please isolate yourself from the healthy." this was terrifying. You were terrified. This sounded like a movie, like the end of the world. Surely not?

You didn't know how right you were. You didn't leave your room for two days, sustaining yourself on the food that the hotel was still kindly providing. You and your friends talked through Skype, and sometime in the night, Adam stopped messaging, without saying goodnight. Nina was next to stop, all of a sudden in the middle of one of her stories. Then J not long after. Then finally, Kayla, early in the morning on the second day, saying that she was scared. The food hadn't come the second day, and you were hungry. You knew the hotel staff had told you to stay in your room, but... you couldn't. Curiosity was set deep as you left the relative safety of your room behind, straying out into the corridor.

You knocked on the doors of your friends' rooms, but there was no answer. You called their names, but there was no answer. You pounded your fists against the doors, ramming them with your shoulders, but there was no answer. Panic bloomed in your stomach as you wandered through the eerily quiet corridors - normally, a hotel this large was bustling and you could hear people at all hours, closing and opening doors, walking around, doing all sorts of things. All you could hear right now was your own frightened breathing.

You made it down to the reception, not meeting a soul as you walked slowly down the stairs. There wasn't anyone at front desk, no one sitting, milling around. No one anywhere. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you wandered to the front door. It slid open quietly and you looked outside. No one. Not a soul. Cars lay abandoned in the streets, as if there had been some sort of order to evacuate - and then you saw it. _Corpses_. Slumped over their steering wheels, collapsed on benches, laying on the pavement where they had fallen.

You nearly threw up then and there - but you had little in your stomach and it just heaved as you stumbled backwards into the hotel, falling onto the floor with a loud thump, wrists smacking against the marble as you backed away, the doors sliding closed. This couldn't be right, you had to be dreaming. You weren't in a Hollywood movie about a plague apocalypse, this was real life. And yet, there were people dead outside.

You ran up to the hotel roof, kicking the door to the roof down as you stumbled out into the burning summer sun. As your lungs heaved with the effort, you slowly walked to the edge and looked down. There were cars everywhere, and bodies too. Your head felt dizzy and you fell - backwards, thankfully - landing on your arse with another thump.

"Shit." you said with a shaking voice. "No. Shit. Fuck." you could see smoke in the distance - billowing and black. Gunshots made you flinch, and as you lifted yourself to your feet slowly, your throat felt dry.

You had to get food. You had to find shelter. You needed to survive. And if you knew just who you were going to survive with, you would have felt a hell of a lot better.


	2. And I Feel Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a new day, and you have to get some god damn food before you starve to death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Guess who bought internet? That's right, me. So here's chapter two!
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

That morning, you got dressed early, put one of the masks that the hotel had given you on your face, and slung a rucksack onto your back. Food was your first and only priority right now - you might look for a gun store, or a sports store, to try and get something to defend yourself with. You didn't want to fight, but you knew that the human race, in the face of something this big, would collapse in on itself, and it would be every man for himself.

You slipped from your room and steeled yourself as you walked through the silent corridors and ran down the stairs. You didn't want to get trapped in the elevator - years ago you remembered watching a documentary about what would happen if the human race vanished, and the Hoover Dam would still have provided power without even being manned, but still, the thought of dying in an enclosed space... it wasn't exactly something you wanted to think about.

You stepped out of the hotel and looked left, right, and left again. Silence. No one. Nothing at all. You heard bird wings flapping above you and you flinched before you started to walk down the street, hands balled into tight fists. The windows of stores had been shattered and most of them had already been looted. You had to find somewhere, _anywhere_ that had food. You'd even settle for a jar of pickles - and you fucking _hated_ pickles.

After half an hour of walking and three fruitless searches, you spotted a small corner shop and your heart soared tentatively. You ran over to it, and at first, you were greeted once more by disappointment - empty boxes on empty shelves. 

You stepped in through the shattered window and the glass crunched underneath the soles of your shoes. You wandered in, perusing the shelves and you spotted something - a couple tins of soup, hidden away. Your heart leaped in your chest and you grabbed them. They had pull lids and you instantly peeled one open and drank it hungrily. Tomato - kind of gross cold, but you were so hungry that you couldn't give two shits anyway.

You finished it off and let out a long, low sigh, closing your eyes and patting your stomach happily. You discarded the now empty can of soup back on the shelf, and stuffed the other four into your bag. You continued through the store, finding a bottle of soda and a few bags of M &Ms - enough for a few days, at least.

You knelt down to look underneath a shelf, spotting a bag of chips. Just as you were about to reach for them, you felt something on the back of your head. A cold, steel something.

"Drop the bag, bitch." a low growl shattered the silence. Your gut wrenched as you slowly turned your head to see the end of a metal baseball bat aimed at your head. You swallowed and removed your bag slowly from your back. The man grabbed it and stepped back a few paces and you wished that you had something to protect yourself. He rifled through your bag, stealing your soup and soda, and threw the bag at you before he left in a hurry.

You felt tears stinging your eyes as you grabbed your bag again and looked into it wistfully. At least you had had the sense to drink some soup before that asshole stole your stuff. You sighed as you dropped down to retrieve the pack of chips from under the shelves, looking around the store some more. There was little else of use to you, so you decided you wanted to go back. One encounter today was one too much.

You slipped quietly from the store and decided it was time for high alert. You darted from car to car, peeking around each time to make sure it was safe to go, ready to fight or flee from anyone that you could perceive to be a threat to you.

You were almost back when you spotted three people, right between you and the hotel. In your haste, you tripped and fell into a car, cursing as you made a fairly loud _whump_ noise. Shit, they were going to know where you were, and all you could do was cower behind the car and pray.

"Did you hear that?" one asked.

"Of course I heard it, you dumbass." said the second.

"It came from over there, near that car." said the third.

"Should we go look?" the first voice asked.

"Don't be stupid, Wade." the third snorted. Wade? Those voices... they were familiar, but you were kidding yourself, surely. As if they would be here, and as if they had survived.

"They might not be friendly." said the second.

"But they might be!" Wade protested. "Come on, Mark! Bob! We said that we were going to help people, if we can." 

"Wade does unfortunately have a point," Bob sighed. "So, who's going to approach? They've probably heard the whole conversation anyway."

"I'll do it." Mark said. Your heart froze in your chest as you clutched your bag tightly. You had to be imagining it. It couldn't be the three idiots you had flown five and a half thousand miles just to see. You had to be tripping off of that soup, or some shit. Maybe you were delirious. Maybe you were asleep, or... or hallucinating, or something - but deep down, how you wanted this to be true.

You heard footsteps and you gulped loudly, peeking around the front of the car, pushing your fringe from your eyes. There Mark was, walking cautiously towards you with a rolling pin held up above his head. You slid behind the car, running a hand through your hair. This was real. Markiplier was walking towards you, brandishing a rolling pin, and he looked about as terrified as you felt.

You gulped again and stood slowly. You heard Mark stop, and you could imagine him freezing in place and holding the pin up. You let out a slow breath, turning to look at him with your hands held out to your sides.

"Please... don't whack me over the head with that. I've already nearly been knocked out once, today." you said quietly. Mark slowly lowered the rolling pin and looked to Wade and Bob, beckoning them over with a tilt of his head.

"Do you have any weapons?" Mark asked. You shook your head. "We haven't met a single friendly person since this began. It's nice to meet you. I'm-"

"Mark." you finished for him. "Yeah, I... I came to see you at the San Diego Comic-con the other day. You know, before the world went to shit." you said with a lazy shrug, looking down at your feet.

"Oh, I thought I recognised you," Mark said ruefully. "I hope you're not stranded too far from home."

"Ha!" you snorted and looked up at him with a grimace. "London. That's where I'm living. So I'm a bit far away from home." you sighed and shoved your hands into your pockets. "Sorry, I probably came off as a lot more aggressive than I wanted. I'm [Y/N]. It's... nice to meet you guys again. Even if, y'know... it's the end of the world."

"Yeah, that it is." Bob said. You introduced yourself to him and Wade as well, rolling your shoulders tiredly. You knew that you should have returned to your hotel by now... but these three idiots - the very ones who were the reason you were stuck here - were here, alive, and were friendly. You talked with them for a while before Bob and Wade moved off.

"Hey, uh," Mark started, clearing his throat. "Are you on your own?"

"I... Yeah." you replied, looking at your feet. "I... I flew over to see friends and meet you at Comic-con, but... I think they're all dead." you hazarded a glance up at him and your could see the pity in his eyes before he looked away for a moment.

"Well... you could come with us. I mean, I'd feel awful for leaving you," Mark rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "You don't have to. If you have something set up-"

"I do wanna go with you!" you interrupted him and paused, clearing your throat. "I mean... I'd love to. I did have food before but some fucker stole it all."

"We're still looking for food, actually," Mark said with a thin smile as he started to walk. For a moment you hesitated but you quickly fell into step beside him. "We ate everything in my apartment and we don't dare break into the others. It's so weirdly quiet in my building."

"Tell me about it," you replied, looking at your shoes and holding your hands behind your back. "The hotel was bustling the first night I was there. Now it's just... eerie, y'know? No noise, no footsteps, no doors shutting... I could barely sleep last night because it was _too_ quiet."

"We've not been sleeping well, either." Mark said, swinging the rolling pin between his hands. "The communications network is down. Bob and Wade - they haven't been able to contact their partners. I mean, we knew about this flu stuff before they got here, but-"

"You knew?!" you gasped, looking at him incredulously. "You mean to say it was reported in America before I got here? What the fuck? Why didn't they close the borders?"

"I don't know." Mark shrugged. "Why?"

"The first I heard about this was when I first got to the hotel. Talking about some flu from China that was really bad - worse than swine flu." you said, kicking a rock in front of you. It pinged off a car and vanished into an alley. "If I'd have known, I wouldn't have flown out here. I would've stayed at home. I wouldn't be bloody stranded thousands of miles from my family!" you sighed and ran your hands down your face tiredly. "Sorry. I shouldn't really rant. I guess you're far away from your family too, right?"

"Yeah." Mark said, looking out ahead of you to where Bob and Wade were. "Cincinnati. About two thousand miles." he looked at you and managed a little smile. "I guess I'm lucky, though. It should only take a couple days to get there if we find a good, big van."

"Should being the keyword," you said with a snort. "It should only take me a day to get home, if I had a plane. I'd jump at the fucking chance to get back, but alas, I cannot fly a plane." you sighed and looked away. "Anyway... We should be looking for food, right? You should know your way around LA, 'cause I sure as hell don't."

"Of course I know my way around." Mark said with a proud grin and a slight scoff. "Follow me, [Y/N]. We should be able to scavenge enough to satiate all of our appetites tonight, or my name isn't Mark Edward Fischbach!"


	3. We're Gonna Go Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally realise that you aren't alone in this fucked up, apocalyptic world. But, it's not time to think about how you're going to survive; you've got to scavenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll, yo! This is a bit of a filler chapter to be fair, buuuut... it needed to be done, you feel?
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

It was odd, being in Markiplier's apartment. You had seen it plenty of times - his videos had shown it enough for you to (almost) know it like the back of your hand. Still, it was surreal, especially given that you'd done nothing special to even be here. You weren't a fellow YouTuber, or... even a friend, really. It was bizarre, and awesome.

You sat up in his bed with a start - he'd relinquished it to you, but he was snoozing on the floor wrapped in a blanket beside you. You couldn't help but watch him as he slept - you'd be lying if you said you didn't think he was very handsome. Despite it all, Mark had a serene look on his face. You had barely slept at all - tossing and turning in the bed as you had a restless, fretful sleep. You had had nightmares, waking up in the night in fright whilst you tried to keep as quiet as possible before you settled down again, curling up and pulling your knees to your chest.

You stretched and rubbed the small of your back, glancing over out of the window. Quiet, still. You weren't in a twisted, freakish nightmare. This was real and it was terrifying. How you prayed that you would wake up and be in your bed back in London, sweating and panting after a nightmare. It hadn't happened, obviously. Nor had you woken up back in your hotel when your friends had come back from sightseeing, eager to drag you out for dinner.

Slowly, you twisted your body so that you were sat on the side of bed, head hanging as you rubbed tiredly at your eyes. You needed to shower and wash your clothes - you were very quickly running out of spares, and you didn't want to inconvenience Mark by asking to go scavenge for clothes for you. It was food you needed to scavenge for, not clothes.

"Morning, [Y/N]." you looked down and saw Mark stretching out on the floor, smiling sleepily up at you. You smiled back, pushing your hair from your eyes.

"Morning." you replied, stretching again. Mark sat up and you realised that he had no shirt on, averting your gaze as you felt a warm blush bloom on your cheeks. You really shouldn't be thinking about that sort of stuff - sure, Mark might be the only single guy for miles around (and you respected the fact Bob and Wade wanted closure about their ladies, and although they were great, they just weren't really your type, either), but honestly, this was the apocalypse. You had to thing of bigger things - like staying alive. 

"Did you sleep okay?" Mark asked, standing up and slipping on a shirt. You glanced up at him, getting an eyeful of his ass in some fairly tight boxers. You cleared your throat and looked away again, looking down at your knees awkwardly.

"Uh, I guess? I mean, I did get to sleep, but it wasn't good sleep," you replied as you heard Mark pull on some pants. Feeling slightly relieved, you looked at him as he picked the blankets up off of the floor and folded them. "It was restless, I guess. But at least I was able to get to sleep, right?" it didn't really feel good to lie, but Mark probably had enough on his mind without worrying about you and your nightmares.

"Yeah," Mark said with a smile. "It's an unfamiliar bed, but you should be able to get used to it eventually. We've still got to find an RV big enough for all of our stuff - and we've got to get enough food for the journey. We don't know how long it'll take."

"Well," you said, standing up and running your hand through your hair again. "It's a few thousand miles. If we drove non stop, that'd be, what, two days? But that's not taking into account any accidents or closed roads." A few days after the con, state borders were closed, and you'd heard that bridges and roads had been blown up by the Army to prevent the spread of the disease. Too late now, you supposed.

"And it depends if we want to avoid any major cities," Mark pointed out. "We've not come across any gun toting gangs yet, but there could be gangs in other cities." Mark was right. If any gun-crazy Americans were still running around, they might end up shooting any of you on sight, regardless of whether you were sick or not. "Anyway, I'll leave you to get dressed and go wake up Bob and Wade. Does toast sound okay for breakfast?"

"Yeah, thanks." you said with a forced smile. Mark nodded and left the room, and you looked over at your suitcase in the corner before jogging after Mark. "Hey, Mark, uh... I don't have any clean clothes left. I don't wanna, y'know..."

"You can borrow some of mine." Mark replied with a smile, gently touching your arm with his warm hand. "We can go scavenging for some clothes for you when we go out to get food, if you want."

"Thanks, Mark." you couldn't help but grin gratefully as you held your gaze with his for a moment before you both nodded slightly at each other. Mark left and you returned to his room, opening his closet and grabbing one of his flannel shirts (you hoped he wouldn't mind, but they were so cute!) and slipping it on. You rolled the sleeves up to your elbows and went into Mark's closet again, pulling out a pair of loose shorts. You pulled them on and pulled the ties on them, tying a little knot in them so they wouldn't fall down.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror briefly - a few days ago, millions of fans would have actually killed you to be where you were right now. But those millions of fans were probably dead, and here you were, in Mark's clothes. You pulled the flannel to your face and took in a long, deep breath through your nose. It smelled vaguely of Mark, and it brought a stupid smile to your face as you looked at yourself again. Dishevelled, grimy, sweaty, and damn did your legs look like they needed a shave, but you were alive. That was what really mattered.

You wandered from Mark's room to see him, Wade and Bob standing over a map, pointing at it and arguing quietly with each other. You walked over slowly, bumping into Mark to get a look at the map and leaning on the bar with your elbows.

"Well, here is the main mall. I say that's where we should go for supplies." Wade said, in the most serious voice you had ever heard from him.

"That'll be crawling with other survivors." Bob replied sternly. "And not everyone is friendly. We need to stay away from those places. Do you want to be shot on sight, Wade?" he looked to the lithe man on his left, who shook his head. "Any ideas, Mark?"

"None so far." Mark replied, rubbing his chin. "What about you, [Y/N]? I know you probably know nothing about LA, but what do you think we should do?" he asked you. You tilted your head, staring intently at the map, sucking in a deep breath as you regarded it.

"Well," you said, drawing out the word as you pointed to the map. "There seems to be a concentration of shops around here. I say we go check that out first. We'll definitely need weapons. There's _bound_ to be a gun store of some sort down there. Then, we look for medical supplies - pharmacies, big and small. Then we head back to drop off what we got." you paused for a minute, pursing your lips. "Food is next. We'll want dry stuff and canned shit - soup, pasta, tinned fruits and vegetables. Anything we can get our grubby hands on." another pause as you looked at the map again, running your tongue over your teeth. "And, most obviously, we'll need a vehicle. I say we hit a gas station first - fill up on some gas. Then we look for a place that sells or rents those enormous drivable caravan things. That way, it'll be big enough for all of our shit, and it'll have a bed, a bathroom, a kitchen. We'll be set."

"Look at miss 'planning for the apocalypse' here!" Wade said with a grin. "Sounds good, I'm in."

"Well, it's a better plan than either of you two morons could come up with." Bob said, standing back and scratching his head.

"It's true," Mark said with a gentle chuckle. "Hey, good thing you tagged along with us. Us men would be lost without you, o' gracious [Y/N]." he laughed, waving his hand with a flourish and bowing low. You snorted and gently shoved him when he rose.

"What are we waiting for? We should get going now, whilst it's still early, yeah?" you said, grabbing a piece of now-cold toast from a plate near the map. "Suit up, boys. We're hitting the town." oh, you sounded really stupid, but at that point, you really did not give a fuck.

Fifteen minutes later, you had large backpacks slung over your shoulders, and you each had a nice weapon you could swing at anyone who came near you - Mark had his rolling pin, Wade had a golf club, Bob gripped a pole torn out of Mark's closet, and you had a sweet baseball bat. 

Mark led the way and you instinctively stuck close to him, hoping he'd be able to protect you. Not that you'd need someone to protect you, you scoffed in your head. Actually, considering what had happened the day you had met Mark, perhaps you did need protection. Or at least someone to watch your back. Going alone wasn't wise in this world, so you were glad to have someone with you. Even more glad at who those someones were.

A brisk jog led you to a gun store. Mark kicked the door down and you were surprised to find that the alarm didn't go off. As you all stepped over the broken glass, the smell of death met you and you lifted your shirt to your nose, coughing. There was a bloated, rotting body slumped over the counter, and Wade gingerly pushed it off with the golf club, making a face as it landed with a squelch and sent flies into the air.

You didn't want to admit it, but you had never even really held a real gun before. Sure, there was that time in high school in London when the police brought in some fake guns and asked you to identify the real one, but it had been in a safe situation, with no ammo and no danger. Now? Danger was looming over you like a dark, ugly storm cloud, threatening to unleash the rains of hell upon you.

Bob, however, seemed to know what he was doing and directed you to grab as much ammo as you could carry. You loaded as much into your bag as possible whilst Mark grabbed two shotguns and Wade hauled the handguns into his bag. Bob made light work of a door and handed you a large, sharp machete, safely tucked inside it's sheath. You were very tempted to quote some video game character in that moment, but you remained quiet as you stared at the giant knife in your hands.

Deciding what you had was too much to carry, you returned to Mark's apartment and unloaded nearly everything. When you confessed you had no experience at all with guns, Bob slapped you on the shoulder and told you that you needn't worry, and that he would teach you. For now, you were left with the baseball bat and machete, whilst Mark and Bob had shotguns, and Wade a pistol.

You left with empty, light bags once more, heading down the same road and to a pharmacy. It was pretty trashed but there was still enough for you - painkillers, bandages, first aid kits. Anything you could grab, you did. Strong stuff, weak stuff, cold medicine, medicated shampoo, even inhalers. Wade and Bob's bags were full, but you still needed food and clothes.

Mark pointed out a warehouse on the map and that was where you headed next, shoes slapping against the hot sidewalk. The sun was high in the sky, beating down upon your back and neck, and you wished you were home, where the weather wasn't half as hot, and the places were far more familiar.

"Shit," you heard Mark curse in front of you and he pulled you into an alley as Bob and Wade ducked behind a car. He pressed you against a wall and stood in front of you, peering around the corner. You were mere inches from him, your heart thudding in your chest from shock as you heard strange voices. "We have to find a different way around." Mark whispered hoarsely to you.

"What about Bob and Wade?" you asked quietly, glancing up at Mark. You never really did realise how much taller he was than you - five inches, at least. Mark glanced over at his shoulder, but Wade and Bob were out of sight.

"We can't wait here forever, [Y/N]," Mark hissed, looking around the corner again. He froze and leaned closer to you, body almost flush against yours in the darkness as two heavily armoured men with large assault rifles sauntered past. "We have to go. Now!" he hissed as he grabbed your hand and pulled you deeper into the alley. You both ducked behind a dumpster, awfully aware of how close you were to each other. It felt like you were there for hours before Wade and Bob jogged down towards you.

"That was close." Bob wheezed, doubling over and clutching his knees.

"Too close," Mark agreed. "But we can't stop. We have to go around these guys." he said. You nodded and rose from behind the dumpster. The four of you walked quicker this time, hurrying through dark short cuts and coming to the back of a large Wal-Mart. Mark beat the door down and ushered you inside, looking around before closing hte door behind him.

There were still things hidden away in dark corners and you and Mark loaded up your bags with soup, tinned fruits, flour, pasta, and bottled water. Anything edible that wouldn't last, you all ate hungrily, regardless of the taste. You were certainly not looking forward to rationing food if it took you a long time to get to Cincinnati - and even if you did get there, you would still need food when you were there. So much shit to think about, so little time to think of it in.

You were all in high spirits as you walked back to Mark's apartment, taking a different route to avoid the heavily armoured men you had seen earlier, bumping shoulders and laughing as you walked back. It was so strange, being in LA without any hustle or bustle at all. It would have been just as strange in London, without the blaring horns and bustling crowds bumping into you at every opportunity, but it was also kind of nice to see LA in the light and the quiet.

You hung back to catch your breath for a brief moment whilst you looked around you. Between a slew of cars you spotted your quarry; large, shining, lit up orange by the slowly setting sun. You stood and looked at it; a large RV. Just what you guys were looking for. 

Completely forgetting about your companions, you walked towards the RV, navigating through the maze of cars and pick-ups. When you reached it, you tried the door; open. You stepped in to see broken plates and mugs on the floor; whoever owned this had left in a hurry. You walked the short distance to the front seat and looked around for the keys, moving old CDs, mixtapes and receipts out of the way. When you moved the sun visor, the keys fell onto the floor.

"Holy shit, fuckin' sweet," you whispered, sitting down in the seat. You couldn't drive - you'd never really seen the need to learn it when you were back in London - but you gripped the steering wheel anyway. Driving you couldn't do, but you knew how to start a car. Inserting the key into the keyhole, and turned it. "Come on, baby." you said quietly, turning it again when it spluttered.

Suddenly, the RV roared into life and you could just about see Mark, Bob and Wade in the distance. You pressed your hand against the steering wheel centre and the RV let out a loud, low honk, making the three men jump about ten feet in the air.

You waved at them and laughed quietly as they started to walk towards you. Oh, you'd be milking that on the journey for a long, long while. It took them about two minutes and they all piled into the RV.

"You scared the shit out of us, [Y/N]!" Bob said, shaking his head.

"Twice." Wade interjected.

"Twice?" You snorted gently and chuckled. "How?"

"Well, we turned around and you weren't there," Mark laughed heartily. "And then you honked the horn of this RV! Wade nearly pissed himself."

"I did not!" Wade protested with a frown, huffing as he set his bag down.

"You keep telling yourself that, Wade," you snickered softly. "Anyway, did I hit the jackpot, or did I hit the jackpot?" you asked, standing from the driving seat and indicating to the RV. The three men looked around, and nodded.

"Nice going," Mark grinned, slapping you on the shoulder. "This should definitely be enough for all of our stuff. How much gas has it got?" he asked as Wade slipped into the driver's seat.

"Not enough for the whole journey," Wade called over his shoulder. "Enough to get us to Vegas, I think."

"I've always wanted to go to Vegas." you muttered, looking through the cupboards of the RV.

"Well, looks like all your dreams are coming true." Mark said with a snicker, kneeling down beside you as you looked in a cupboard. You looked at him and smiled slightly, aware of how close you were to him again. "Anyway, Wade, let's get this hunk a'junk back to my apartment and start loading up. We've got quite the journey ahead of us."


	4. It's Us Or Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a damn good thing that you're a trained paramedic, huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo chapter 4/20 blaze it
> 
> Warning in this one for graphic violence (I bet you were wondering when that'd come in, right?). No major character death, don't fret.
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

You hauled the last bag of pasta into the RV and sat down on the side walk with a loud, exhausted sigh. You were almost finished. You had a few more things to find - batteries, more water, clothes and spare bedding and sheets. But you were almost so, so ready to go, and yet everything was weighing on you, still.

It had been three days since you found the RV. You had insisted that Mark stop sleeping on the floor and went back into his bed - it was big enough for the pair of you, and you'd shared beds with people plenty of times before. You didn't want to think about sharing your bed with your old friends - still laying in their hotel rooms, rotting. You had gone back with Mark to get your stuff, and you had been tempted to kick the doors of their rooms down, but you had stopped. Best to remember them alive and in their prime. You didn't want to see their bodies, bloated, pale and rotten. You could barely think about them without bringing tears to your eyes. Speaking of, as you thought of your old friends, you realised you were crying - fat, salty tears rolled down your cheeks and onto the shirt you had borrowed from Mark.

You stood and walked back into Mark's apartment building, head hanging low. You passed Bob and Wade, who were hauling boxes of tinned soup. You didn't care if they noticed how downtrodden you looked - and even if they did, they said nothing and only glanced nervously at each other as you passed.

You walked through Mark's open door to see him packing things into a box. He called your name but you ignored him, pressing past him and going out onto the balcony. You let out a shaking breath, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. The tears started to flow freely now. Silent, warm, salty tears running down your face and dribbling onto the t-shirt you were wearing.

No sobs wracked your system as you stared out over LA, watching the quiet city through your tears. As you leaned on the balcony wall, you glanced over it, thinking how tempting it would be to end it all now. After all, all of the people you knew were dead. Why not join them?

"Stop that," you hissed to yourself, gripping the balcony with your fists, knuckles aching with how tightly you were holding it. "You're not alone. Stop crying, you stupid bloody baby." you sniffled and wiped at your face with the palm of your hand.

"That's not a nice thing to call yourself, you know," you jumped and turned to see Mark standing at the doorway, leaning on the door frame. "I'd ask you how you're holding up, but..." he trailed off, not wanting to indicate at you, but you knew exactly what he meant. You managed to smile, a sob bubbling in your throat.

"I am a bloody baby, though," you said, rubbing snot from your nose onto your forearm. "Ugh, gross." you grumbled wiping it off with your palm and onto your shorts. "I just... I got thinking about my friends. Nina, Adam, Kayla, J. They're all dead, Mark. They're all dead and I'm not. It's not fair, you know? Why couldn't they be alive? I'd be less alone..."

"I can't say I know how you feel," Mark said, approaching you slowly. "But I'm here for you. Me, Bob and Wade. The four of us against this fucked up world. Don't feel that you need to bottle up all this. If you need to cry on my shoulder, feel free." he managed a sad smile, touching your shoulder reassuringly.

"Can I cry on your shoulder now?" you blubbered, wiping your eyes and looking up at him. You knew you probably looked damn pathetic right now - good thing you hadn't really bothered with make-up since everything went to shit. Mark nodded and opened his arms, and it barely took you a moment to step close to him and hold him tightly, crying a big, gross patch of snot and tears onto his shirt. Mark rubbed soothing circles into your back, resting his chin on your head as you let it all out.

It felt like an hour, but eventually, your tears stopped flowing and you pulled back to look up at him. Mark smiled and reached up to wipe your cheeks, before he rested his hands on your shoulders. "Better?" he asked.

"Better." you echoed with a nod, pulling back from Mark. "Sorry, I left a wet patch on you." you said, awkwardly pointing it out with your hand. Mark laughed - the first proper, genuine laugh you had heard since you met him.

"I'll live," he grinned. "That, and I'll get you back. Just you wait. You won't be expecting it and bam, snot and tears all over your shoulders." Mark snickered. "I'll go change my shirt, and we can go scavenging. Bob said he's going to stay and load the van some more, so it'll be you, me and Wade. If you want to come."

"Of course I want to come," you huffed lightly. "You pair don't know what clothes I like - or what size I wear." you said. "And I ain't about to tell ya, either." you gently booped Mark's nose as you sidled past him. You had to admit, even though your eyes stung and your nose was still running and your cheeks were probably as red as all hell right now, you felt miles better. Bottling up your feelings was never good for you, and you flashed Mark a grateful smile as he followed you back into his apartment.

"There you two are!" Wade said as he and Bob walked in. "We were waiting for you to bring some boxes down."

"Oh, gross, Mark, what happened to your shirt?" Bob asked, looking at the big wet patch in the centre of his chest.

"I, I spilled some juice on myself. I'll go put on a new shirt," Mark said. You looked away and wiped your nose with the back of your hand, clearing your throat awkwardly. "Right, Wade. You and [Y/N] need to get your bags on. I'll be back in a second." Mark brushed past you, fingers gliding across your own before he disappeared into his room, and you were left staring after him as the door closed.

When Wade's voice broke you from your thoughts, you walked over and slung on one of the big rucksacks, adjusting it slightly. Mark appeared moments later with a fresh shirt on (jeez, how many fresh shirts did he even have?) and put his rucksack on. He and Wade grabbed their weapons and made sure the safety was on and that they were loaded, and you had your baseball bat in your hands again, ready to bash some brains in. Okay, maybe that was a lie, but you were certainly ready to smack whoever came at you. Your machete was also hooked onto your belt, ready in case you needed it.

Making sure Bob was okay to load the RV on his own, you, Mark and Wade set off, with Mark leading the way once more. The first place you hit was a linen store - you loaded up Mark and Wade's bags with fresh clean linens and bedsheets. They would come in handy later for bedding and strips of cloth in case you ran out.

You eventually found a clothing store that was relatively untouched, and you grabbed all the spare clothes you could for yourself. Wade grabbed things for him and Bob and you shoved them in to your bag, not caring at all about folding them. You were in too much of a rush - the three of you felt... odd, like you were being watched, and you didn't want to hang around any longer than you had to.

"So," Mark said as you walked through LA together. "I think we've got everything now. We'll have to hit a gas station in Vegas, no doubt, even if we end up having to walk for miles to find one. I have no doubt nearly every single station has already been dried up, by now." he said, adjusting the straps of his bag.

To your left, you heard a noise and you instinctively grabbed Wade and Mark's arms. "I heard something." you hissed to them. They looked at each other, then to you, then over to the left. Nothing. Your skin prickled uneasily - you weren't being paranoid, you were certain that you had heard something!

After a moment, Mark put a hand on yours reassuringly, smiling. The look in his eyes made you feel better, but as Wade started to talk, you saw someone in the shadows. A scrawny, maddened looking little man, a knife in his hand.

It all turned to slow motion. You grabbed your bat from your belt and your voice hitched in your throat as you tried to warn Mark. He saw the look on your face and slowly began to turn as the knife-wielding runt ran towards you. On instinct, Mark pushed you backwards and you fell against a car.

The runt let out a screech, more akin to an animal than a human, and launched himself at Mark. There was a struggle, and you pushed yourself up as the runt clawed at Mark. Mark held his own against him - both hands gripping the arm with the knife, but his face was being clawed up.

Then you saw someone else - another one. Your first concern was Mark, and with all your strength, you fucking _hurled_ the baseball bat at the runt on Mark. It connected to his skull with an almighty crack and sent him sprawling backwards and off of Mark.

The second runt moved forward as Mark tried to pick himself up. You ran past her, grabbing your bat from the floor to Mark's left, and as you turned, you saw the glint of the knife in the midday sun before it sunk into Mark's side.

"No!" you screamed, gripping the bat tightly. Your feet struggled for traction beneath you as you ran at the second runt, hitting her against the side of the head with the bat. "Wade, get to Mark!" you yelled as he was dealing with the first runt, smashing his skull in with the handle of his gun. 

You were pulled back to your fight as the runt slashed her knife across your cheek. It stung like hell but it wasn't deep - and you were fuelled by far too much adrenalin and unfiltered rage to even notice. Your voice was like fire in your throat, screaming yourself hoarse as you punched and kicked at the runt. She bit your hand and you screeched, raising the bat above your head and bringing it down with all the force you had in you.

Her skull collapsed with a sickening crunch and you felt blood and bone spray against your face, closing your eyes and reeling back as it did. You stood above her broken body, panting and gasping for air. Your muscles were aching from the fight, and you nearly dropped your bat as you stood up fully.

"[Y/N]! For God's sake, [Y/N]!" Wade. You turned around to see Wade pressing his hands against Mark's side and you were pulled down from your adrenalin fuelled high when you saw the look on Mark's face. Eyes wide, you nearly tripped in your effort to be next to Wade.

"Shit, fuck," you gasped. "Okay, Wade, stay still, I need the linens out of your bag." you near enough ripped open Wade's rucksack with shaking hands, pulling out a long linen and tearing it with your teeth. "H-here," you pressed it into one of Wade's hands and he pushed it against Mark's wound. Mark wheezed and swore loudly, gripping Wade's arm tightly. "At least I had the fucking sense to pack a f-fucking first aid kit." you said, dropping your bag to the floor and digging through it.

There it was! The green box at the bottom. You clawed your way through the clothes and pulled it out like it was precious, and you flung it open, almost spilling out it's contents. You glanced at Mark's face - he was terrified. So were you. Your stomach was practically heaving as the blood vessels opened up and sent blood rushing to it. If you didn't hold yourself together, you'd be sick, and Mark would die.

"O-okay, Wade," you grabbed a medical needle and thread and put one hand on his shoulder. "I'm a t-trained p-param-medic. I n-need you to... to release pressure and l-lift Mark's shirt. T-then, uh... f-fuck," you pressed your fist against your forehead. Think, girl, think! "I'll t-try and sew his wound shut. When I do, I n-need you to pass me the b-biggest fucking plaster you can find, and g-gauze, plenty of gauze. T-Then, the bandages." 

"Got it." Wade said, his voice shaking just as much as yours. You rifled through the little box again, and grabbed the swabs.

"M-Mark," you put your hand against his cheek and he looked at you with panicked eyes. "This is gonna fucking hurt, okay? I n-need you to put this in your mouth so y-you don't bite off y-your tongue." you had another ball of torn up linen in your hand. Mark looked at it and then back to you before he nodded.

"You got this." he tried to say reassuringly, but the fear in his voice made you feel even sicker.

"I'm not gonna lose you, you hear me?" you said as Mark bit down on the linen ball. "No friend of mine is gonna survive the f-fucking apocalypse, o-only to be taken out by s-some nutter with a knife."

You took in a deep breath, wiping your hands with an antiseptic wipe. You nodded at Wade and he moved out of the way. "Three, two, one." you said as confidently as possible. Wade pulled his hands away and pulled Mark's shirt up. Mark wheezed through the linen and you could hear the pain he was in from just sitting beside him.

You took a wipe and wiped the wound clean despite Mark's protests. "Fucking stay still!" you hissed at him, throwing him a glare. His body stopped twitching long enough for you to steady your hand and start sewing his body back together. From the way Wade wheezed, you could tell Mark was gripping his hands tightly.

You were in work mode; all the other noises were gone and all you saw was the wound. Not deep - no vital organs or blood vessels were punctured, thank God. His muscle and fat and skin had been torn apart - but you could see his intestines from here. It wasn't pretty to look at - but you didn't exactly want to see someone elses guts. But, it had been your job back in London - being first on the scene to sew up some poor fuck who'd been stabbed. At least you had the experience.

It took only a few moments to sew up the wound and pull it tight. You closed it and wiped it once more with another clean wipe. You held out your hand and Wade pressed gauze and a large plaster into it. You pressed the gauze against the now seeping wound before tearing open the plaster and pressing it over the gauze.

"Bandages, Wade." you said. Wade placed the curled up bandage in your hand. "Okay, Mark, I need you to lift your body slightly so I can wrap this around, okay?" You looked at him - he was still with you, good. He nodded and struggled slightly, but he lifted himself up. Working quickly, you wrapped the bandage around his torso, pulling it tight but not too tight. "Wade, medical tape." you held the finished bandage in place and Wade put the tape in your hand. You tore off a piece with your teeth and placed it on the bandage, repeating this several times.

Then, you sat back on the floor, your hands bloodied, and promptly threw up to your left. You would have run your hands through your hair, had they been clean. You did wipe your mouth with a strip of linen and you sighed when you looked over at Mark and Wade, who both looked equally traumatised.

Mark slowly moved the linen from his mouth and groaned. "You got any painkillers, [Y/N]?" he asked quietly. You nodded and looked into your first aid kit again - wasn't there some morphine of some kind in there? You rifled through it and pulled out the small vial and a needle.

"You've had morphine before, right?" you asked Mark.

"Yeah, but to knock me out for surgery." he replied.

"Well, you know how this is gonna feel. Fucking weird." you replied, looking him over to get a quick judge of his weight. Sucking out enough morphine into the needle, you rolled up his sleeve, wiped it with another antiseptic wipe, and pressed the needle in, injecting him. "There. We better get your ass back home. We've got everything we need, right?" you looked to Wade, who nodded. "Okay... I'll take your bag. Wade, can you take Mark's weight?"

"I think so." Wade answered. Mark slowly moved his arms from his rucksack and Wade slowly helped him sit up. Mark looked over the two dead runts and ran a hand through his hair.

"You really did a number on those two, huh?" he asked quietly. You closed your first aid kit as you stood, and looked at the two runts yourself. The woman had her skull bashed in, skull gleaming white in the sun. The man's eyes had rolled back in his head, blood seeping from his ears. Yep, they were fucking dead all right.

"It was them or us." you said quietly, shoving the kit back in your bag and tossing the needle into an alley. "Or you. I wasn't about to fucking let them kill you." you said, voice low. You rolled your aching shoulders as you grabbed Mark's rucksack, helping Mark up slowly with Wade. "Let's go, before any more weedy, knife-wielding shits turn up."


	5. It Can Only Get Better, Right...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make your way through the eerily quiet streets of LA and you're overwhelmed by the stench of death around you. It doesn't get any better as you leave LA. Your journey is slow at best - the roads are blocked by all sorts and you know it'll take more than a few days to reach Cincinatti.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ey, chapter five! Let's see if I can keep this ball rolling, eh?
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

"No!" you shot up in the bed with a strangled cry, arms flailing as they searched for something to grasp. Your chest heaved painfully as you sucked in desperate breaths, looking at the room around you. Dark, quiet, no scrawny, knife-wielding runts slashing at you or Mark.

"[Y/N]?" Mark asked groggily, looking up at you. You turned to look back at him, sighing in relief. You put your hand on top of his and held it tightly, reassuring yourself that Mark was very much alive, thanks to your quick thinking. "Are you okay?" Mark struggled to sit up, shakily and slowly raising himself to your level.

"I'm... I'm okay," you replied, looking down at your lap. "I just had a... a bad dream."

"Bad dream?" Mark asked softly, putting a hand on your shoulder. "Nobody wakes up from a bad dream with their ribcage heaving like that." you briefly glanced at him and looked away once more. "Hey, you're safe. I was the one that got stabbed, remember?" Mark rubbed your back soothingly as you pressed the palms of your hands into your eyes, observing the bizarre shapes and colours bloom behind your eyelids.

"Yeah," you said quietly, setting your hands on your lap. "I just... you got stabbed, again, and I tried to run to you, but... it was like running on ice - I was going as fast as I could but I was getting nowhere, and you... you were bleeding out and they were stabbing you again and again and again and..." your quiet, shaking voice trailed off as you gently laid your head on his shoulder. Mark continued to rub circles into your back, and he placed his other hand on top of one of yours.

"I'm okay, see?" he said, lifting his shirt briefly. "Just another scar to add to the collection, right? I'd be dead if not for you." Mark smiled at you and you looked up at him, gazing into his dark eyes. Your lip quivered before you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. He was alive, he was fine, and you had saved him.

"It won't be a pretty scar," you mumbled quietly. "But, knife scars never really are. You're lucky it was only a paring knife." you said. Anything larger and it would have made a damn fucking mess of his intestines - and repairing intestines was something you couldn't do. If it had been a bigger knife, Mark would be dead. The thought sent an icy shiver up your spine and you shuddered.

"Hey, chicks dig scars," Mark said jokingly as you pulled back from the hug. In the early morning sun, Mark looked fine - no pain on his face (though you had made sure he was full of painkillers), a big grin, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled. "Come on, we better get up. I can hear Bob and Wade moving around." he said, pulling away from you slowly. 

You put your hands in your lap again, watching them with a sigh. After Mark rose from the bed with a grunt, you did the same, swinging your legs off the edge and standing. You were stiff and you hurt, but hey, at least you hadn't been stabbed, right?

You and Mark walked into the kitchen, where Bob and Wade were sat, eating dried cereal. You had run out of milk a few days ago, before Mark had been stabbed - and by now, any milk left had gone nasty. You'd miss it, but hey, you could live without milk.

You and Mark sat down next to each other, almost occupying each other's seats as you munched on the cereal was well - picking up handfuls of the little knitted squares and eating them, one by one. Today was the day you were leaving - as you absent-mindedly ate your cereal, Mark, Bob and Wade talked and indicated on the map, coming to disagreements once or twice.

"I say, we go to Vegas first." Wade said. "It's four hours away and there should be plenty of good pickings."

"Won't it be crawling with survivors, though?" Bob pointed out.

"It will be," Mark said. "But, they could be friendly, like [Y/N]."

"Or, might not be, like those skinny weird people who stabbed you." Wade said.

"Will it even take us four hours?" you asked. "You must have seen the news, too, right? The army closed roads, blew up bridges, and people were in a panic. If the roads out of LA are anything like the roads _in_ LA, there will be a lot of cars jamming up the roads."

"Well, regardless, we're going to be driving slow." Bob said. "I've seen too many movies where they crash on the road even when there's nothing in the way."

"Like in The Walking Dead?" you asked with a gentle snort as you leaned back in the chair. "But I agree with taking it slow. We don't know how old that RV is, and how long it'll last. Best to treat her like an old girl; gently."

With that, you packed the last of your things away and put them in the RV - towels, the bedding you had been using, your laptop and Mark's PC. You both spotted each other sneaking them into the RV whilst Bob and Wade were occupied, and you'd both promised not to mention anything. Who knew what you would be able to use them for? As if you'd just not use electricity in Cincinnati.

Then, you all used the last running water you'd see in a while to wash - a long, cold shower, standing underneath the blasting water as you scrubbed yourself of days worth of sweat, blood, dirt and grime. The dirty water ran down and out of the drain and you knew that you would miss it more than anything - no hot, running water out on the road.

When you were finished, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself into a warm, fluffy towel and rubbed yourself dry. It felt good, being clean - you knew you were going to relish being this clean whilst you still could. Grime and dirt would build up with scavenging.

Shrugging on some relatively clean clothes, you made your way out of the bathroom. Mark was stood over the map again, rubbing his chin as he looked at it. You walked over and gently put your hand on his arm and stood next to him, gazing at the map like you knew what you were doing. Mark glanced at you with a small smile.

"So, I remember seeing that most of the main roads out of LA are closed. We're going to have to go through the Angeles National Forest," Mark said, pointing out the large green patch to the north of the city. "It'll take us a bit longer, going that way, but hey! It'll be pretty!" he laughed gently, but you could hear the uncertainty in his words.

"Well, sometimes one has to take the scenic route, right?" you managed a grin despite yourself, looking over the map. "Where are Bob and Wade, by the way?"

"They're in the RV, I think. Strapping shit down and looking at the engine. Manly stuff." Mark said with a vague shrug. "I should be down there. It is engineering, after all."

"Yeah, but, weren't you a _bio-medical_ engineer?" you asked with a raised brow. Mark snorted.

"You got me there," he said, folding the map up and looking around his apartment forlornly. "I'm gonna miss this place. Oh well, the apocalypse is calling." he stuffed the map into a bag and sighed. "Well, shall we be off, [Y/N]? Bob and Wade won't wait for us forever." Mark said, indicating at the two bags that were left.

You picked one up and Mark picked up the other, and you walked side by side out of his apartment and down to the apartment parking lot, where Wade and Bob were looking at the RV's engine and grumbling to each other.

"What seems to be the problem-o, gentlemen?" you asked as you approached.

"I don't know," Bob said. "She might make it to Cincinnati, but she might not. You could've picked a healthier RV, you know."

"Hey," you put your hands up in mock surrender. "I'm not much of a car enthusiast. Now, video games and what specs you'd need - that, I am an expert on." you said with a sigh. "Not that that matters in this fucked up world. Is she gonna drive, or isn't she?"

"She should," Wade replied as Mark opened the RV and climbed in. "But, it's whether she'll make it to Ohio. We may end up walking."

"Oh God," Bob said with a shudder. "We'll have blisters on our blisters if that happens."

"It won't," Mark scoffed gently as he leaned out the RV to take your bag from you. "We'll just grab another car of some sort." he vanished for a moment and the RV rocked slightly as he dumped the bag somewhere. "For now," he called from inside, hopping out of the RV. "We must be off! Vegas awaits!" he grinned widely and held the door open.

You stepped into the RV, thankful it was tall enough for you to stand in. Wade walked in next, stepping to the front and climbing into the driver's seat. Bob took the seat next to him, and then Mark entered and closed the door. It was pretty cramped with the four of you - you couldn't be closer to Mark if you tried - okay, that was a lie, but it was cramped like nothing you'd ever seen.

"Okay," Wade said as he started the engine. "You two hang onto something. I'll be taking it slow but it'll probably be a slalom course out there." he said. You and Mark looked at each other before you stepped behind the two seats in front, holding onto the headrests tightly.

The RV emerged into the midday sun and slowly wove through the abandoned cars. You could see a building on fire in the distance and Wade obviously spotted it too, turning the RV away from it. After your encounter with the runts, you wanted to be better safe than sorry - no heading towards smoke, and you'd be vigilant at all times. A pity there wasn't six of you - two groups of three would have been perfect.

"Jesus.." you whispered, lifting a hand to your mouth as you got onto the Golden State Freeway - on both sides, there were endless cars, as far as the eye could see. It was like your usual rush hour traffic - but every single car was silent, and their passengers were slumped over steering wheels and dashboards, cold, lifeless, dead. 

You felt Mark's hand on your shoulder and without thinking, you put your hand on top of it, desperate for some form of living contact. Wade carefully weaved the RV through the traffic, and though it took forever, eventually you were in the suburbs - as eerily quiet as the centre of LA was.

Nobody nosily peered through their curtains, there were no laughing children playing in their yards, no one being dragged by their large dog on a walk, no roller skaters, no cyclists, no gardeners, loiterers, neighbours, no _nothing_.

"I hope the roads aren't as snarled up as they were on the freeway." Mark said, attempting to fill the air with idle conversation. You exchanged him a nervous glance - none of you really seemed to be in the mood to talk after everything you had just seen.

"I'm gonna... go take a lie down in the back." you announced, walking through the RV to the bedroom in the back. There was barely any room in it - any spare space had been taken up with things - but the bed was free and you flopped down onto it, lying on your front and ignoring the pain in your boobs as you buried your face into a pillow.

You felt a weight beside you and turned you head to see Mark, lying on his back. "You feelin' shitty too, huh?" you asked quietly, rolling on to your side.

"Yeah..." Mark replied, glancing at you. "I never thought I'd be alive to see the end of the world. Or, the end of humanity, at least."

"Me neither," you said, flopping onto your back. "It feels like a video game or a nightmare. But it's not. I wake up every day and millions - no, _billions_ \- of people are dead. I'm... having a hard time just thinking about it."

"It isn't something I ever thought I'd need to think about," Mark sighed. "But we're alive, right? Even if we're all far away from our homes and our loved ones."

"I guess..." you snorted. "At least you guys are on the same continent. All my family is in the UK - I'll die never knowing if they died now." you blinked as you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "It doesn't matter, though. I got you, right?" you turned to smile ruefully at Mark, to see him smiling just as sadly back.

"Yeah, you got me," he said. "You can try and get rid of me, but I'll cling to you like a leech. So long as old Markimoo lives and breathes, you're not going to be alone, I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok a quick, vaguely drunk edit: my fucking laptop basically exploded so there will be no updates until I can procure another. I'm as disappointed as you but hopefully the tag will update, and I may write it by hand after buying a pen and paper.


	6. The Weight of Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The RV comes to a spluttering halt in Las Vegas, and you encounter a group of youngsters, barely surviving. You take the decision to stay with them until the unthinkable happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, sorry for any weird mistakes - writing on a tablet is fucking weird, and I have predictive text on as well. General warning for death in this one.
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

The RV suddenly started to spluttering unhealthily, and you looked up from the map on the small table you were currently hunched over. What could possibly be wrong? You were in Vegas, you supposed, so maybe you had already run out of gas?

"What's wrong, Wade?" you called, standing up as Wade pulled the RV into a small side road out of plain sight.

"We're finally out of gas," he replied over his shoulder. "Can you go get Mark and find some?" he continued, tapping the dashboard impatiently. 

"Sure thing," you replied, rubbing the small of your back as you walked the short distance to the RV bedroom. You quietly opened the door to see Mark and Bob both sleeping on the bed. You leaned on the door frame for a moment a you watched them both; it was early morning now, and you and Wade had gotten up for the first driving shift. It had taken longer than four hours to reach Vegas - despite the remoteness of the roads you had taken, there had still been cars abandoned, their drivers still sat in their seats, dead. It had seemed that many more people had had the idea of taking quiet back roads to get past roadblocks, only to die in their cars, alone.

You sidled carefully along the side of the bed, squeezing past boxes and bags until you were level with Mark's torso. You reached out to his shoulder and grabbed it gently. "Time to get up, sleeping beauty," you snickered, giving his shoulder a small shake. Mark grumbled and moved to roll away, but your grip was firm. "Come on, sleepyhead. Up you get, before I drag you by the ear."

"Alright, alright..." Mark muttered, waving your arm off and slowly sitting up in the bed. "Where are we?" He asked with a tired yawn as you sidled back to the foot of the bed.

"Vegas, babay!" you said, grinning like a madman. "We're outta gas. Me and you are going out for more, so get ready." you stretched out and left Mark to get up, walking back to the main room, where Wade was now stooped over the map, muttering in annoyance to himself. "That bad, huh?" you asked quietly. Wade turned and nodded solemnly.

"I've been marking off the roads that are likely blocked or destroyed," he said as you walked to his side. "And it's not looking so good. It's going to take more than a few days to reach Cincinnati, at this rate." he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Well," you said quietly, looking carefully at the map. "So long as we make it, yeah? That's what really matters." even though you had little to no interest in reaching Cincinnati, you had to stay positive - if not for you, but for the guys. You had to admit, at least their goal was far more attainable than London.

"[Y/N]," you looked up from the map to see Mark, ready to go. You sympathetically put your hand on Wade's upper arm for a moment before you walked to Mark. "If you're ready, so am I." he grinned slightly, holding up a bag full of empty bottles. Perfect for carrying flammable liquids in! You took the bag from him and adjusted the straps slightly as Mark exchanged a few quiet words with Wade.

You stepped out to the morning sun, blinking blearily up into the sky as you shielded your eyes from the sun. Mark stepped out beside you, placing his hand on your arm briefly. You turned to him and smiled slightly before you both set off, marking down where Wade had parked the RV on the map.

The first gas station you hit was empty - hardly surprising at all. The second and third were empty, too - you were having absolutely rotten luck, in all honesty. 

"I'd say this times the charm, but..." Mark said as you picked through the broken glass and toppled shelves. "This isn't going well at all." he sighed gently and ran a hand through his hair.

"That it isn't," you replied with a huff as you kicked a bike pump out of your way, stuffing your hands into your pockets. "There's got to be _something_ of use around here." you grumbled, looking at the floor dejectedly.

"Here's hoping, [Y/N]…" Mark said as you left the gas station. You fell into step beside him, arms swinging. Wade and Bob were probably wondering where you two of you were - and as you looked at Mark, you wondered if he was ready to head back already.

You paused mid-step as you could have sworn you saw movement. You grabbed Mark's arm tightly, and he looked at you with worried eyes. You didn't want to have another incident like LA - either one of you getting stabbed was bad news, and getting ambushed was an even worse fate that you didn't really want to think about.

"Get 'em!" you flinched as you heard a voice - young, and angry. You and Mark stood back to back, your hand gripping his. There was another shout, and movement again out of the corner of your eye. "Throw the net, Vipul!"

From the top of the nearest building, a net was thrown. You looked up, squinting against the bright sky as the net came down on you and Mark. He threw you a look of confusion as your captors came into view - were they… children? Some of them barely breached five foot tall. Where were their parents? Ah, yes. Dead probably. The tallest of them - lanky, tanned skin, short dark hair and fierce looking eyes - stepped forward triumphantly.

"Looks like we got a couple a' suckas," Bostonian, definitely. He grinned wildly at his posse. "What's a couple of dumbasses like you doing out here in our part of town? You lookin' to steal from us?" he asked, his barely pubescent voice cracking as he cleared his throat.

"We're looking for gas. Just passing through." Mark said. "You do know that this?" he indicated to the net before throwing it off. "Was never going to hold us. Me and my friend here aren't as dumb as we look." he grinned slightly as the kids jumped back in fear. "Hey, we're not going to hurt you. I'm Mark, this is [Y/N]. You going to tell us your names?"

"Why should we?" the leader asked, folding his arms over his chest.

"Rafa, please." a dark skinned girl said, rolling her eyes at him as she turned to look at you and Mark. "Ignore him, he thinks he's dead cool. I'm Ayotunde. You can call me Aya." she grinned. "That's Rafael. He's sort of our leader, but only 'cause he's oldest. Ginger over there is Naomi," she indicated at a short, annoyed looking pale girl with a head full of ginger curls. "Vipul over there got you with the net." Aya pointed at the young, dark skinned Indian boy, who had long and messy brown hair. "Gus is Rafa's little brother," she nodded at the smaller boy hiding behind Rafa's legs. "Maddy and Sylvie are over there. Sylvie's the blonde one - British too, poor kid - and Maddy is the Asian girl." the two girls nodded nervously from their spot behind a car. 

"Where are you guys from?" Vipul asked, leaning on a car hood.

"I'm from London," you replied. "Mark here is from Los Angeles."

"Hang on a sec," Rafa said curiously, narrowing his eyes. "You're Markiplier, ain't ya?" 

"That's me!" Mark grinned. "I gotta ask, though... Where are your parents?" he asked. The kids all looked away sadly, scuffing the floor. Mark flicked you a look before Maddy spoke up.

"My mom went to go get medicine and didn't come back. Sylvie's parents were murdered for their car. Aya's dads and Rafa's mom went to get food but we haven't seen them in two days. Vipul's uncle left him, and Naomi's gran died from the flu." Maddy said, looking down. "We've been sticking together since, but we got no adults to look after us. We dunno what we're doing."

You looked at Mark and you felt a heavy sigh come from your nose. You knew you couldn't leave these kids - not without it weighing heavily on your conscience. Given that you didn't care either way if you reached Cincinnati or not... you knew what you had to do, and you were certain Mark knew, too.

"How much food do you kids have?" you asked. Rafa shrugged. You turned to Mark and you knew he was thinking the same. "If you can help us find gas, we've got plenty of food to spare."

"Why should we trust you?" Rafa asked with a grunt.

"If we really wanted to kill you - which we don't, by the way - you'd already be dead." Mark stated with a shrug. The kids exchanged glances before Rafa nodded.

"C-can... Can one of you stay?" Gus piped up nervously from behind his brother. "I don't want to be without a adult... I haven't slept since Mommy didn't come home..." Your heart absolutely ached in your chest. Those poor kids. To be alone in this evidently unforgiving world...

Mark was about to speak when you gently put your hand on his arm. "My friends are going to Cincinnati, but.. I'll stay."

"[Y/N]," Mark said quietly, gripping your upper arm. "Don't do anything you don't want to."

"Oh, Mark..." you smiled briefly at him. "Besides you, there won't be anything for me in Cincinnati. I can do more good here, with these kids." It hurt, but it was true. You couldn't leave these kids without someone to look after them. Mark, Bob and Wade had people waiting for them, hopefully. You? You had no one in Cincinnati. Mark's face betrayed his voice as he spoke.

"You... You can't just... I know I can't stop you, but..." he sighed loudly as he looked at you, fear in his eyes. "You saved my life. I have to repay you somehow." he pleaded, and you let out a gentle laugh. 

"I'll be fine, I promise." you insisted. 

You walked with the kids, and they led you to a mostly untouched gas station, just what you needed. You and Mark filled up your bottles with as much gas as you could carry, and the older kids - Rafa, Vipul and Aya - filled up Gerry cans. You walked back to the RV in high spirits, glad to see the kids laughing and smiling like they should be. It almost felt like there was no apocalypse and you were laughing with younger friends. But, the thought lingered of what was truly going on - these kids were orphans, their parents dead or missing.

It was late when you finally reached the RV. Bob and Wade were a little wary of the kids, but they behaved and took you to their home. They had set up in a hotel, and their parents had set the place up well. That night, you ate a large meal of soup and beans, and split the remaining food in half - half for you and the kids, half for Mark, Bob and Wade.

You sat on the hotel roof, looking out across an eerily quiet Vegas, leaning your head on your knee whilst your other leg dangled lazily off the building. A door opened behind you and you heard footsteps before Mark sat beside you heavily.

"So... You're really staying, then?" he asked sadly.

"Yeah," you replied quietly, gazing at the street below. "You, Bob and Wade should go to Cincinnati, find your families. Live life, survive, that sort of junk. I'll stay here with these kids. They need someone to look after them, you know? Why not me? I've nothing better to do."

"I wish we could take them all." Mark said with a distraught sigh. "Well, me, Wade and Bob talked and... If you change your mind, we'll be in Vegas for two more days." he said ruefully, putting his hand on your shoulder. You put your hand on top of his and looked out at the dark horizon.

"Thanks for the offer, but unless something drastic happens, I don't think I'll be leaving these kids," you turned to smile gratefully at him. "Doesn't mean I won't forget you, though, you big goober." you managed a grin despite yourself and pulled Mark into a warm hug. He wrapped his strong arms around you, and you were both content to just sit there, at what felt like the edge of forever, in each other's arms.

You eventually peeled yourselves away from each other and wandered downstairs. Wade and Bob were still up, as was Aya. The other kids lay around in sleeping bags and huddled under blankets, snoring away happily and easily. You sat down next to Mark in front of the small fire, not wanting to meet his eye. Though you hadn't known each other long, and you weren't sure that he wouldn't call you a friend, it felt like you were betraying him by staying behind.

"Hey, Mark?" you asked quietly when Wade, Bob and Aya had all gone to bed. "You don't... hate me for wanting to stay, do you?"

"Why would I hate you?" Mark asked, stoking the fire.

"I dunno," you replied with a shrug. "I just... I feel like I'm betraying you, you know?"

"For wanting to stay and look after these kids?" Mark laughed gently. "No, [Y/N], of course I don't hate you. What you're doing is... brave. If I didn't... you know, need to know about my family, I'd stay too. But..."

"I know," you replied, putting your hand on his shoulder. "You gotta find out, right? I mean, who knows? Maybe Aya's dads or Rafa's mom will come back while I'm here. Maybe they don't. Regardless, I can't leave the little blighters, and there isn't enough room in the RV to take them. Besides, what would be the point? Imagine if we took them and some of their parents were still alive?"

"You have a point," Mark said. "I just wish we could take them, you know?" you nodded and he put his hand on your shoulder. "But I'll miss you. It might have just been a few days, but... it feels like I've known you for a while."

"I'd say the same, but it feels... kinda creepy coming from me," you giggled softly and looked back into the fire. "Come on, we should sleep, eh?" you said. Mark nodded and you both settled next to each other under a pile of warm blankets.

You slept relatively well, but peeling yourself away from Mark was difficult. They had to get back on the road, you knew that, but God damn did it hurt trying to say goodbye. You must have locked yourself in a bathroom and cried for an hour before Aya finally coaxed you out. You needed to be strong for them, to be their island in the storm when they needed you. You could do that much at least.

But, becoming a mom to seven kids was not easy. They argued, they fought, they screamed, they cried. But, for the most part, they seemed happier. The first day was difficult, but you got through it. You went scavenging alone the second day - Rafa didn't want to come with you, Vipul got sick and Aya was taking care of him. You didn't mind at all, as it gave you time to yourself as you thought about your decision. You had to admit it, you really fucking missed Mark, Bob and Wade.

You rolled your shoulders as you wandered through Vegas. You were going to get so God damn lost - why hadn't you taken a map? Oh, right, because you were a bit lacking in the common sense department. Better to wander aimlessly and wonder where the fuck you were going than to grab a map, obviously. You huffed and shrugged your shoulders again, swinging your bat lazily by your side as you wandered. You really wish you had seen Vegas when it was alive and bustling with life - sure, you had more chance of being pickpocketed, but damn was this place lonely without people.

You were out for a few hours when you heard gunshots, back towards the hotel. For a moment, you felt fear punch at your gut as you turned to look. It was probably best to start heading back as it was - Rafa was probably finally out of bed and you could grab him and tell him to take you to some places with actual pickings rather than slim ones. You wondered where Mark, Bob and Wade were, considering briefly that the gunshots may have been them. Either way, hearing them wasn't fun.

You sighed as you rounded a corner near the hotel. The hotel was in sight now. You felt a smile grow on your face - the kids would be happy with the candy you had gotten - before you noticed the smoke. Something was wrong. Your heart stopped in your chest as your smile and step faltered - billowing clouds of smoke were rising out of the building, and the kids weren't outside.

Your feet slapped against the side walk as you broke into a run. Your heart thudded against your ribs, your lungs heaved and you could only feel panic. You burst into the hotel, panting heavily. A fire was raging in one corner, and you coughed loudly before lifting your shirt to your mouth. You looked around fearfully, hopeful that they were okay, before you spotted the footprints - bloody footprints.

"Rafa? Gus? Naomi? Aya? Vipul? Sylvie? Maddy? Where are you?" There was no response. You were beginning to panic. Slowly you stepped towards the blood, glancing at the glass and ash crunching underfoot. You swallowed the lump growing in your throat as you saw a small hand through the glass doors, bloodied. You gripped your baseball bat tightly as you pushed open the doors.

The sight that greeted you made a pained gasp escape your lips. There lay your wards, dead. Your heart stopped as you backed against the door and sank to the floor as sobs racked your body. The kids were broken and battered, blood oozing from bullet holes. The food was gone, as were the weapons. Who had done this? Who had murdered children? Defenceless kids? And for food that would have lasted you a few days, at most?

You sat there sobbing before you forced yourself to your feet and left, unable to look over their broken little bodies any longer. Your feet ached, ugly tears spilled from your eyes, but you needed to find Mark. He would still be here, you told yourself. You had to find him, that was all that mattered now. You stumbled and fell, the palms of your hands colliding with the hot asphalt. It hurt to move, but you forced yourself to your feet and pressed on through the pain and tears.

Your painful eyes looked around as you searched. They couldn't have gone far - but Vegas was a big city. What if you didn't find them? The thought of it made a sob catch in your throat and you choked loudly, coughing. Tears stung at your eyes once more and you stubbornly wiped them away - conserve your energy, you told yourself as you nearly stumbled and fell against a car, palms catching on the hot metal. You were having no luck at all, today.

You paused, leaning against a wall to catch your breath. You wiped at your eyes, sniffling loudly. You were still crying, though quietly and a lot more steadily, tears flowing like rivers down your cheeks. Your shirt was about soaked through and it was a miracle you were still able to produce tears, full stop.

"Do you think this place is viable?" a familiar voice. You looked around desperately, your peripheral vision blurry from pain and tears. You pushed yourself from the wall and stumbled forward. Around the corner walked Mark and Bob, and you could have sobbed in relief had your throat not been as dry as the Sahara.

"Mark," you called feebly as they continued to walk forward, away from you. "Mark, please... Mark..." your voice caught and cracked in your throat, and you clenched your fist and beat it against the nearest car in anger at how quiet and pathetic your voice was. Mark and Bob didn't hear you. You had to catch up to them. Your feet, still screaming from walking for so long, refused, and you stumbled along after them, leaning against cars and trucks as you did.

"Did you hear that?" Bob said to Mark, flicking a look behind him and spotting you. "[Y/N]! Jesus!"

"[Y/N]?" Mark's gaze followed Bob's and he gasped. "[Y/N]! What happened?!" he was by your side in an instant, taking your weight. You sobbed loudly, gripping at him as you did. "I got you, don't worry, I got you." he said, taking you into his arms. "The kids? Are they..?" you shook your head, and Mark and Bob exchanged worried glances. "Come on, let's get you back to the RV."


	7. Twin Skeletons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five days out of Vegas, you've run out of food. You stop in Fishlake National Forest to camp, hunt and bathe, and sod's law being as sod's law is, Mark catches you bathing. You're more embarrassed than angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez typing on a tablet is fucking difficult... 0/10 would not recommend.
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name, [H/C] is your hair color and [H/L] is your hair length! Enjoy!!

You woke that morning with a start, heart thumping violently in your chest. You still saw the broken, bleeding bodies of the kids you had stayed in Vegas for, blood trickling from bullet holes as their glassy eyes bore into yours. To your left lay Mark, still fast asleep. The dawn sunlight filtered in through the dark windows and you held your head in your hands, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. It had been seventeen days (at least) since the world had gone to shit, but it felt like it had been years since you'd seen other people, friendly or not. 

Last night, Bob and Wade had set up a perimeter in some forest - Fishlake, or something like that - and you had eaten the last of your food. You wished, briefly, that the RV had been big enough to take the seven Vegas kids _and_ the four of you - you might still have had some food left, and those kids... Rafa, Aya, Gus, Vipul, Naomi, Sylvie and Maddy would still be alive. But fate was cruel, and mankind crueller.

You leaned back, setting your head against the headboard with a tired sigh. Mark stirred beside you, sleepily rubbing at his face. When his eyes met yours, he smiled softly at you. You managed to smile back briefly as you pulled your knees to your chest and set your chin on top of them, turning your gaze out of the grubby window. The bed moved as Mark sat up beside you, and he pressed his shoulder against yours - a gentle gesture that brought you out of your morbid thoughts.

"How are you holding up?" Mark asked you quietly. You sighed loudly through your nose as you thought over your words carefully. You were thankful that Mark had been unofficially checking up on you every day, keeping you grounded to this fucked up, post apocalyptic world.

"Honestly? I could be better, but I could be worse. I'm in that weird, fuzzy zone in the middle, y'know?" you shrugged lightly as you briefly glanced at Mark. "The nightmares ain't getting any better, that's for fucking sure." you were sure it was the same for him. On the nights you had stayed up well into the small hours, you had watched Mark twitch and groan in his fitful, restless sleep. As for Bob and Wade, they probably were holding up just as well as you. You were going to be really fucked up when this was all over - if this ever ended.

"Well, we'll be having a slow, easy day today," Mark said brightly, bumping your shoulder affectionately. "Some hunting, gathering. We might even get a chance to bathe in one of the lakes." you had to admit, Mark's endless enthusiasm brought a smile to your face. You didn't know how he did it, but he kept your thoughts out of that deep, dark place where they threatened to drag you down with the billions of already dead people.

You both got up, and between the four of you, you shared the last of the Weetabix logs and the cold brewed coffee. You split into two pairs - Wade and Bob headed west, to a river, whilst you and Mark headed east, to a lake. You raided a small campsite, finding some tins and preserves. Mark found a bush of berries - edible thankfully. This whole surviving in the wilderness sure was something you'd never thought you'd ever have to do in your life. It was still surreal, in all truth.

"Sooo," Mark drawled as you wandered through the forest. "If you could have picked anyone to survive with, on the whole planet... Who would you have picked?"

"Bear Grylls, for one. Former SAS, survivalist, explorer and all that jazz? Give me the Bear." you said without any hesitation. "Hmmm... Unfortunately, that exhausts my knowledge of great survivors, so I'll stick with you three morons." you grinned widely at him as he huffed and folded his arms across his chest, a pout gracing his lips. "What about you? Would you really wanna be stuck with my dumb ass?"

"Honestly? You want an honest answer?" Mark asked, raising a brow. You nodded. "I couldn't ask for three better people to experience the end of the world with." he smiled sheepishly and looked down at the floor as you playfully pushed his shoulder.

"You're a big fucking sap, you know that, right?" you snickered softly. "But... I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel the same." you stuffed your hands in your pockets and looked up through the canopy of leaves. "I mean... Sure, it'd be great to have Adam, Nina, J and Kayla here, but..." your voice trailed off and you looked down at the ground. "At least, like... I still got good memories of them, right? Better to remember them how they were before... Well, y'know." a lazy shrug, and you glanced at Mark again.

"I know," he patted your arm sympathetically. "I saw my neighbors, people I knew, dead. Not something I ever thought I'd see. I thought, I'll be in LA for a couple more years, maybe find someone I could spend the rest of my life with, move back to Cincinnati... Grow old, have a couple dogs and kids..." Mark shrugged. "I guess the world had another idea."

"Yeah," you nodded. "I figured I'd move back to the big apple one day, get married, buy a nice apartment... But fate's a bitch." you gently bumped Mark's shoulder again. "But hey, at least we're alive, right? The flu can try all it fucking wants. I'm gonna live to a hundred, you watch."

"A hundred, huh?" Mark chuckled. "You got, what, eighty years to go? Maybe I'll join you. You and me, centenarians, fighting fate and surviving ninety-nine percent of the human race." he grinned, slapping your shoulder.

"Yeah!" you grinned back, punching the air triumphantly. "Fuck fate! Me and you, [Y/N] and Mark, ruling the world as old wrinkly fucks." you wiped a tear from your eye as you bumped Mark's shoulder again.

"Is that a promise?" Mark asked cheekily as you reached a small lake. "Alright, I think I'll scout around for more berries. You okay doing some fishing?" he turned to you and you nodded. Mark moved back into the tree line and you walked up to the lake, looking into the clear water. You were so tempted to strip off, and throw yourself into the inviting blue pool. You glanced behind you - Mark was nowhere in sight. 

You shook your head - you should at least catch something first.

You kicked off your boots and peeled your socks from your sweaty, blistered feet. You slowly waded into the water, sucking in a breath through your teeth - shit, it was cold. You walked in until the water was up to your knees, and there you stood as the fish began to relax and swim towards you. You unconsciously licked your lips as the fish danced close to you, but you had to be patient.

One came within reach and you pounced, near enough throwing yourself into the water as your fingers locked around scaly flesh. You pulled your arms up, holding the wiggling and fairly upset fish above your head in triumph as you waded to shore, grabbing a stick and quickly dispatching the fish. You did this successfully twice more (and you weren't about to talk about the twenty-seven failures) before you finally gave in to that nagging little 'fucking swim already' thought.

You threw all your clothes to the floor and waded into the cool, calm water, submerging yourself in the chilly depths. You lifted your head above the water to breathe, feet kicking against the sandy bottom. It felt amazing to be rid of nearly two weeks worth of sweat and grime, and you closed your eyes as you relaxed for what felt like the first time in forever.

"[Y/N]? Where are you hiding?" You opened your eyes in a panic as you heard Mark's voice. He came through the undergrowth and spotted you, face turning a dark shade of crimson. You sank into the water again, instinctively covering yourself with your arms. "Oh. Oh. You're, uh... Naked." Mark said, voice dry.

"Yep." you replied simply, looking away. "I... Was washing. I didn't know when I'd be able to next." you cleared your throat sheepishly, eyes desperate to be anywhere but looking at Mark.

"I... I understand, don't worry." Mark replied. You looked over at him and saw that he was covering his face and looking away. You cleared your throat again and he peeked between his fingers like a frightened child.

"Come on in!" you grinned, beckoning him in with one arm. "The waters f-f-fine!" Mark looked at you before he smiled in relief and dropped his bag. You couldn't help but watch him undress, admiring his body before you coughed and looked away. "How's the, uh, side feeling?" you asked as you swam a little in the pool.

"It's, uh, it's good!" Mark replied. You glanced at him to see his boxers fall to the floor and you sucked in a breath, eyes wide as you looked away, cheeks blushing a deep red. "Did I ever actually thank you for saving my life?" Mark asked as he waded in to the water.

"Hey," you turned to him and held up your arms in a lazy half-shrug. "I didn't become a paramedic to be thanked. I did it to save people, you know?" you asked, dropping your arms. "Seeing you alive and smiling is thanks enough." you said quietly, looking away. 

"Now who's the sap?" Mark asked with a chuckle. "Seriously though... Thank you. Without you, I'd be dead." he smiled at you sincerely, before his smile turned mischievous. He splashed you and you gasped as he laughed heartily.

"That's it, you big turd!" you yelled, splashing him back. You laughed as he was hit with the full force of the water, leaving him blinking dumbly at you. You swam back as Mark tried to splash you again, sticking out your tongue childishly. You both laughed and swam for an hour before you both tired out, wandering of out of the water and lying on the mud and grass on the banks of the lake.

"I wish we could stay here forever..." you said quietly, turning to look at Mark. His brown gaze was turned to the sky.

"That'd be awesome." Mark replied, looking fondly at you. He slowly reached over, brushing a stand of your [H/L] [H/C] from your face. "But, we gotta get to Cincinnati," he smiled ruefully. "Whatever happens, we'll still have this day, and its memories, right?"

"Yeah..." you whispered, looking up at the sky again. "Come on. Bob and Wade are probably wondering where we are. We should... Put some fucking clothes on." you chuckled as you sat up and dusted the dirt from your back. Mark rose beside you, and you could feel his eyes on you as you dressed. You said nothing as he dressed beside you, and when you had finished, you slung your bag back onto your shoulders, and picked the now dry fish from the ground. Mark was ready moments later, and began to make his way back towards the RV. You paused as you reached the tree line, turning to look at the small lake, before you sighed and followed Mark.


	8. A Quiet Day In The Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You stop in Georgetown, Colorado for the night, and you can't shake this feeling that Denver is bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whomp, another filler chapter. But it means two today!
> 
> As always, Y/N is your name! Enjoy!!

The sun was beginning to kiss the horizon, and as you sat staring out of the grubby window, you wondered what would have been different had you been home, in London. Would you even be alive, for starters? And even if you were alive, what about your parents? Siblings? Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents? Were any of them alive? Your gut instinct said yes, but your gut instinct was also telling you that Denver was bad news.

"Y/N!" Mark called as Wade pulled the RV over besides the Hotel de Paris. You stood, hunching in the van as Mark walked to the door and opened it. You stepped out and squinted into the sky - on three sides, there were mountains, and on the other, a valley. You stretched out with a loud yawn as Mark stepped out after you, brushing his palm against the small of your back briefly. "Reckon they've got comfortable beds in here?" he asked, turning to you with a grin.

"Anything's more bloody comfortable than the floor," you grumbled gently as you scratched the side of your head tiredly. Ever since leaving LA, sleeping on the only bed in the RV had been on rotation - you and Mark for two days, Bob and Wade for two days, and rinse and repeat. "I say we drag a couple beds into the biggest room, and crash. Then we can steal some quilts so the floor is less hard when we sleep on it."

"Now that sounds like a good idea, " Bob interjected as he stepped tiredly from the RV. "But the first port of call should be food. Me and Wade will secure the hotel; you two go find food."

"Uh, where?" you asked, indicating to the practically minute town you were stood in. "Alright, we'll look for food. Doesn't mean we'll find any in this backwater place..." you grunted as Wade passed you and Mark a rucksack each. You and Mark headed forwards, along Griffiths street. "There's, what," you huffed, turning around as you walked. "Twenty houses here, tops. I don't we'll find anything here."

"And if we do find something?" Mark asked as you neared a large brown house. 

"I'll, uh... I'll, uh... I'll eat my shoes." you said with a semi-confident nod. Mark laughed heartily as you neared the garage doors of the house.

"I'll hold you to that, Y/N," he grinned as he pulled up the garage door for you. You slipped inside and held it open for Mark, who ducked in behind you. "So, what are we going to find? A crazed butt-stabber? More knife-wielding runts? Spooky ghosts?" you thumped his arm. "Ow! Okay, Markimoo, shutting up."

You slowly approached the stairs, creeping up them and calmly peering around the slightly ajar door. You could hear flies buzzing - a sign that the occupants were long dead. You lifted your shirt to your mouth and indicated to Mark to do the same. You crept forward, pushing open the door with your trusty baseball bat. Slumped in a comfortable looking chair, was a corpse, very dead. The smell was revolting, but as you rounded the corner you spotted the kitchen, full of jars and tins.

"Fucking jackpot!" you grinned wildly at Mark as you walked into the kitchen and set your bat down. "Oi, get over here so I can load you up." you said as Mark was briefly occupied with staring disgusted at the fat, bloated corpse. Mark joined you and you began to shove as much as you could into his bag. You could feel yourself salivating as you did, trying to remember the last time you actually had something that could have been called a meal.

"Now you," Mark said as you zipped his bag up. You turned, and Mark began to load the rest of the food into your bag. "So," he said quietly as he followed your gaze around the room. "Who do you think the person who lived here was?"

"Huh?" you looked at Mark over your shoulder, brow raised. "W-why would I think about that, ya goober?" Mark shrugged.

"I don't know," he replied. "Just... It takes my mind off of the fact they're dead, y'know? Maybe this guy was preparing for the end - it'd explain all the dried food. I think he was a hunter once too - he's got the trophies to show it." Mark pointed at a mounted stag's head on the wall above the fireplace.

"Maybe," you said as Mark zipped up your bag. "He was married - floral doesn't really suit him." you said, nodding at a flowery chair next to the one the dead man was in. "He liked football - the European kind, see?" Underneath the stag's head was a series of flags. "Manchester United, Real Madrid, FC Barcelona, Arsenal, Inter Milan, uh... That last one is, um... Bayern Munich."

"On? You know your füssball teams?" Mark grinned as you walked up the second set of stairs.

"Well," you shrugged. "I share a flat with five footy nuts - or, I did. Every time there was a match, we'd crowd around the TV and watch. Even teams none of them supported!" you laughed softly. "My, uh, little brother... He was on course to play for Arsenal. Got picked up outta high school by an agent. Obviously, he... Well, y'know." another light shrug as you reached the second landing. "I'll, uh, head to the bathroom. You go find some sheets and shit."

Mark turned left whilst you walked into a large bathroom. You wandered over to the big bath, fingers trailing over the cold porcelain. You turned the faucet to no avail. No running water up here it seemed. You tried the light, flicking the switch a few times, noting that there was no power here, either. Fishing your maglite from your belt, you turned it on and looked around the bathroom. Shampoo, soap, and toilet roll. You stuffed it into your bag before leaving the bathroom.

"Oh, Jesus, Y/N!" Mark held his hands to his face as you accidentally shone there light in his face. "Watch where you're pointing that thing!" he grumbled.

"Sorry," you said, looking down at your feet. Why were you so dumb and awkward? Not even scientists could figure it out, you were certain. "I didn't see you. Have you got everything we need?"

"Yep!" Mark said, adjusting his rucksack. "Is there anything else we need?"

"Um, yeah." you said. "We'll, uh, need to hit a pharmacy or a house that had adult women in it."

"Why that specifi- oooooh." Mark cleared his throat. "Yes, well... Shall we?" he forced a smile before he walked down the stairs. You chuckled quietly as you followed him, shaking your head in an affectionate manner.

When you finally procured what you needed, you returned to the RV and the hotel. Wade had already stoked a fire and was cooking up the last of the meat from your last hunt. You fetched two pots from the hotel kitchen and loaded one with beans, and the other with soup.

"Can I, uh, tell you guys something?" you asked as you settled down with your hot food.

"Sure." Wade said. You looked down at the bowl in your lap and sighed.

"I... don't think we should go through Denver." you blurted out, glancing upwards nervously.

"Why?" asked Bob. You stared over more at your meal, stomach churning uneasily.

"I... I..." you lifted your hands and set them on your knees as words escaped you. "You know that animals will flee when they sense an earthquake or volcanic eruption?" you asked. Mark nodded, but Wade and Bob regarded you with raised brows. "This... This is sort of like that. It's a feeling. A horrible, stomach churning feeling. That we should really, really avoid going to Denver."

"Don't be silly, Y/N!" Wade said incredulously. "There was nothing in Vegas, and only a small thing in LA."

"But what if it's something big in Denver?" you raised your voice and nearly rose to your feet. "I'm not being silly! I've been unable to shake this feeling for days. Denver is bad news bears, I swear."

The three men looked at each other silently before Bob spoke. "If we avoid Denver, that's a three day detour, at least." as much as you didn't want to admit it, Bob was right.

"Hey," Mark put a gentle, reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We'll be fine. I got your back." his confident grin made you feel somewhat better, and you managed a thin smile in response.

"Promise?" you asked him. Mark smirked.

"Ain't nobody messing with old Warfstache's partner!" he said with a triumphant snicker. "I promise, I won't let anything happen to you." Mark said, voice low enough so that only you could hear.

"I'll hold you to that, you goober." you whispered in reply, smiling a proper, happy smile. Hopefully, your gut instinct was wrong.


	9. Daniel In The Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were right about Denver. Mark is sick after eating something bad in Georgetown, and you need to get him medicine. Whilst you and Wade are scavenging, a strange group of men grab you, and the sight isn't pretty when you wake up, caged like an animal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the drama begins!! Next chapter will be told from Mark's point of view, just for the heads up! Also a warning for implied non-con/rape and cannibalism after the three asterisks, but it is only mentioned.
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

Two days were spent in Georgetown, scavenging what you could, and eating like kings for the first time since before the flu. It took two hours to reach Denver, and you hadn't planned to stay in Denver at all, but Mark started throwing up on the road. You had no medicine for him, and thus the straws were pulled - you and Wade were to go out and raid what you could find, despite everything your gut instinct told you.

Bob pulled the RV over and you reluctantly pulled yourself away from rubbing Mark's back as he threw up into a bucket for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning. You exchanged a worried look with Bob as he took over from you, and you took your rucksack from Wade. Your stomach was still churning restlessly, and you were certain that you weren't sick as a dog like Mark was - this was that fear you had been unable to shake.

In your time in Georgetown, Bob had taught you the basics of gun handling, and although it made you uncomfortable, you holstered a small pistol on your belt, but you would rather rely on your baseball bat - it had dispatched several foes already, and it was becoming a crutch of sorts. You slept with it within reach, and never left the RV without it.

Wade had stepped out of the RV and was waiting for you. Spine tingling uncomfortably, you took the plunge and stepped out. The cool morning air near enough hit you like a freight train and you shivered - though that may have been the nerves. Wade gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and you forced on a smile - this wasn't the time to panic - you needed to stay strong. If not for yourself, then for Mark.

The streets were eerily quiet, even more quiet than LA had been. No raging fires, no gunshots in the distance or revving car engines bouncing off of the high rise buildings. Your skin prickled beneath your clothing as you followed Wade closely, eyes looking around for any sign of movement at all. You were being paranoid, you had to be. Wade and Bob had said there was nothing to worry about - and to an extent, Mark had said so, too. You wouldn't say it out loud, but you wished it was Mark with you. 

The first pharmacy was fruitless - nothing for fever, but cough medicine and anti-inflammatories, it certainly did have. Your feet ached as you traipsed after Wade, barely able to bring yourself to fill the silence in the air between the two of you. You felt you had little to talk about - the guys knew most about your life by now - that you were a paramedic living in London with several friends, visiting your parents London home every weekend. They knew that your favorite video game was Team Fortress 2, and your favorite color was blue. They knew you fell from a tree when you were eleven and broke your leg. They knew that you were vaguely allergic to a certain brand of sun lotion. And you knew more about them than you ever thought you would.

"There's a Target over there," Wade said, pointing out the large red building. "It might have a pharmacy in it. Even if it doesn't, there's a hospital nearby, I think."

"We can try them, but they're probably both empty." You replied as you scratched the side of your head. Regardless, the Target would probably have some shit in it to scavenge - not that you could really remember what Target had in it.

"Still worth a look, right?" Wade said with a shrug. It was better to look than to just give up on checking - and who knew what you would find? Hopefully something of use, even if it was just a clean shirt or a fresh linen. At this point, two weeks into your journey and with twelve hundred miles to go, just finding something useful felt like winning the lottery - which at this point, as one of what could only be a few million people left on the planet, you had technically already won the lottery several times over.

You and Wade both grabbed shopping carts and wheeled them into Target. You leaned on the handle of yours, kicking off the floor as you whizzed through the center aisle, looking up left and right to spot anything of use. The aisles were all a complete mess, things strewn on the floor in a similar way to Black Friday sales. Except, of course, everyone who would have been fighting for the cheapest sales was long, long dead and gone.

You did find some things of use - some batteries, bedding, and a pair of comfortable walking shoes, just your size! But you still couldn't shake that sickly feeling from your gut. It felt as if you were being watched. And not in the same way you had been in Vegas. This was altogether a very different, much more unwelcome feeling. You could only describe it as a lingering need to constantly check your six, and you were beginning to wonder if you were going mad. Not an entirely wrong assumption, given everything you had gone through in recent days.

"Hey, [Y/N]," Wade called. "We got a couple aisles left. You take the ones on the right, I'll take the left."

"Got it!" you replied with a wide grin. You leaned on your cart, riding it down the remaining aisles. For the most part, there was nothing. You frowned widely, pressing your heels on the floor and halting your shopping cart. You heard a noise behind you - something being kicked - and you spun around. You saw nothing, but the sticky, sickly feeling wouldn't go away.

A tin rolled behind you, and you turned slowly, watching it roll and come to a halt against a shelf. Every instinct told you to turn and run, but God... was the tin tempting. You licked your dry, chapped lips and swallowed the lump in your throat as you slowly approached it. You stopped in front of it, leaning down and picking it up. You looked at it carefully - cream of chicken soup. 

Without warning, there was a rag over your mouth and nose. You gasped in surprise sucking in the disgustingly sweet smell. Your head felt fuzzy, and your knees collapsed beneath you. Strong, unfamiliar arms caught you, and the last thing you heard was the cream of chicken soup, skittering across the floor.

* * * 

"Hey... Hey..."

You groaned at the cotton wool type feeling in your brain, lifting a hand to your face to rub at it. Your lungs felt wrong, your lips more chapped than they were before. Slowly, you opened your heavy eyes and looked at the ceiling. This wasn't the RV, or anywhere else you had stayed.

"Hey, you're awake!" you turned your head to see a women smiling thinly at you. "I was wondering when you'd wake up. You got a name, short stuff?"

"A name?" you asked groggily, sitting up and holding your cotton wool filled head. "Uh... I'm [Y/N]... Where am I?"

"Hell," a second woman said. "You come alone to Denver?"

"Alone?" You rubbed your forehead. "No, I, uh... I was with... Three guys."

"Were they grabbed with you?" The first woman asked. She sounded worried - why would she be worried about people she didn't even know?

"No, I... Two of them were back at our RV... I was... I was in... Target with, uh... Wade." you looked at the other two women and noticed the bars between you and them. "What... What the hell? Where..."

"Hell, honey," the second woman said. "I'm Maeve, this is Keisha." Maeve indicated at the first woman. "Are you sure your friend Wade wasn't grabbed with you?"

"They dragged her in alone, Maeve," Keisha said. "They're still feeding off of my cousin."

"F-feeding?" you swallowed dryly, not really wanting to know.

"Feeding, honey," Maeve said, looking away, her dreads covering her dark face. "When I said this was hell, I meant it, sweetie. These sick sons of bitches have been kidnapping people. They kill and eat the men, and us women?" Maeve looked into your eyes, her gaze dark and haunted. You gulped again. "They rape us. And when they get tired of us, they kill us, too."

"Maeve!" Keisha hissed. "Don't scare the poor kid. Look at her, she's hyperventilating." Keisha reached through the bars and put her hand on yours. "We been plannin' our escape for days now. Will your friends rescue you?"

"They bloody well better," you wheezed as a door opened. Keisha withdrew her hand instantly as three men strolled in, talking among themselves.

"Which one you fancy today?"

"The pretty one," a grunt. You shrank back, fear taking over as you pressed your back against the doors. "Don't want the old ones. Give me the new one."

"Boss but dibs on 'er."

"Fuck, of course he had. Give me the old one. I like a cougar." The men walked forward and unlocked Maeve's cage, dragging her out.

"You sick fucks will get what's coming, you hear me?" Maeve snarled. There was the sound of a slap against flesh, and then a punch. Maeve cried out before she was dragged away, and the heart seized in your chest as you understood what was coming to her, and you silently prayed that Mark, Bob and Wade would come to your rescue.


	10. Bad Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where are you? Are you even still alive? Regardless of the answer, Mark is willing to burn Denver to the ground to find you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! Point of view change - because I can't tell an awesome search and rescue story while you are trapped in a cage, right?
> 
> Sorry if it sucks - I may have murdered my wrist writing yesterday's chapters... And I'm strapped up writing this one >>
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

Mark could finally open his dark eyes without the grubby-filtered sun burning holes in his retinas. His head was still throbbing, but his stomach had finally settled down. No longer did he feel the need to throw up every five minutes. That snooze had done him wonders - had there been any point in Bob, Wade and [Y/N] drawing straws and going out into the city to look for medicine? Probably not, in all honesty.

"Mark?" Bob called from the front. Mark slowly sat up, holding his throbbing head with one hand as he pushed himself off of the bed with the other. "How are you feeling?"

"Like my head got run over by about seventy-six cars," he replied. "How long have [Y/N] and Wade been gone?" Mark asked as he sat down next to Bob, leaning heavily on the dashboard.

Bob checked his watch. "A couple hours, at most," he said, relaxing somewhat in the driver's seat. "You were completely comatose when you hit the bed. You had me scared for a minute."

"What, you thought I had the flu?" Mark snorted as he lifted his head to look at Bob. "I just ate something that didn't agree with my delicate Korean tumtum." he joked, lifting his shirt and gently patting his stomach. [Y/N] had recently changed his dressing, and had said he was healing fine. Only thanks to her, though. Without [Y/N]'s training, he would have died in LA that day - probably one of the first humans to die of something that wasn't the flu.

"Hey," Bob elbowed his shoulder, and Mark looked up. "I think I see Wade." Bob squinted and grabbed a pair of binoculars they had grabbed back in Vegas. Mark watched Bob's brows furrow and his gut twisted in nervous anticipation.

"Where's [Y/N]?" Mark asked, voice cracking. Bob lowered the binoculars to his lap and gave Mark a serious look.

"She's... She's not there," he said, his voice dry. "Wade... Looks like he's seen a ghost." That could mean only one thing - Wade would never leave [Y/N], not unless something awful had happened. They had made a pact - no matter how injured, even if dead, they'd drag them back to the RV, even if it killed them.

Wade's panicked shout reached the RV and Mark felt his stomach churn again. He and Bob rose to their feet in an instant, and were both standing outside the door of the RV before Wade skidded to a halt in front of them. He near enough collapsed, doubling over and setting his hands on his knees as he sucked in air. When he had stopped panting, he rose, his face grim. Mark almost didn't want to ask - didn't need to ask. If [Y/N] had died, Wade would probably have said it the instant he had stopped in front of them.

"What is it man?" Bob asked.

"It's [Y/N]..." Wade said. Mark would have thrown his head back and groaned, had his head not been throbbing. "We... We were in Target, we split up for two fucking minutes... I heard a scuffle, but by the time I reached where she was, she, she..."

She was gone. The nausea Mark had felt earlier was gone. He was aware of a pain in the palms of his hands - was he clenching his fists that tightly? - and a growl bubbled in his throat. "Did you see who took her? Where they took her?" Mark asked, voice dangerously low.

"I saw them leaving the store and getting into this beat up, which Chevy pickup. [Y/N] was unconscious - I don't know if they smacked the back of her head out did something else, but she was out of it." Wade said. Bob turned to look at Mark, who was baring his teeth in a blind rage.

"Whoever these fucks are, they're going to fucking regret the day they kidnapped our friend." Mark snarled, punching the side of the RV. Wade flinched and stepped back. "I'm going to kill them." he growled. Wade held out her baseball bat - still dented from where she had saved his life in LA by killing the crazy runt. "Get in the van. We're going to find those sons of bitches." Mark said angrily stepping into the RV. Bob walked in behind him and placed a hand on his arm.

"Mark," he said, voice soft. "I know you want to destroy these guys - Wade and I feel the same, but..." Bob sighed. "You," he prodded Mark in the chest. "Are recovering from whatever you ate. You need to rela-"

"Bob, how can you tell me to relax when [Y/N] is in obvious danger? Those... Those fucks have kidnapped her, and God only knows what they're doing to her. Wade said they knocked her out!" Mark hissed, clenching the RV kitchen counter top tightly. "They... They're not going to get away with this. I'll kill them before they hurt her."

* * *

That night, Wade was driving the RV through the dark streets. Mark sat in the seat beside him, shotgun on his lap, legs jittering impatiently. There had been no sign of [Y/N] and he was getting worried sick. They had seen no signs of anyone besides tyre marks on the road outside Target.

"Lights." Wade said, breaking the stifling, uncomfortable silence. Mark followed Wade's gaze, his dark brown eyes spotting the orange light in a shop window - a fire of some sort. No Chevy pickup, though. "It could be worth investigating." Wade suggested. Mark let out a derisory snort, but Wade was right. 

The RV was parked around a corner and locked securely, Mark, Bob and Wade approached the shop front. There was movement inside, and someone pointed a gun out.

"State your business, strangers." A very strong Texan accent.

"We need information," Bob replied. "About a group of men."

"Group of men?" the Texan asked. 

"Yeah," Wade said. "They've kidnapped our friend."

"Drive a Chevy pickup?"

"Yeah, you know them?" Mark asked. The Texan looked around, lowered his gun, and beckoned them inside.

"Quickly, quickly! Those darn monsters like to grab people at night, too." He hissed as they slipped inside. He stepped back and hollered upstairs. "Lewis! Come down here and watch the front." he turned and sighed as he locked the door. "I'm Bill, welcome to Satan's God damn asshole." Bill said as a young man walked down the stairs with a shotgun. "You three, follow me. Thanks for taking over, Lewis." Bill patted the younger man's shoulder before leading the three of them up the steps. "Now, you three got names?"

"I'm Bob. Tall and lanky here is Wade. And the guy who's got perma-scowl on his face is Mark." Bob said. "It's good to meet some friendly faces, for once."

"And the same to you," Bill replied. "Over there is Francis, Ro, Ellis and his kids Zoe and Nick and, uh... Don't know that last guys name, but his shirt says Coach." Bill said, leading them up a second flight of stairs. "Now, you say your friend was kidnapped by thugs driving a Chevy pickup?"

"Yeah," Wade said. "Beat up, brown and rusty."

"Well, I got bad news for you, boys," Bill said, leaning over a map of Denver. "These guys... These are the guys Rick from The Walking Dead would shoot on sight. Now, if I were you, I'd take a seat." Bill said, lighting a cigar and leaning on the table. Mark sat on a beanbag, Wade on a backwards wooden seat and Bob perched on a side cabinet. "These men... Instead of scavenging like us normal folk," he paused and cleared his throat. "What they do is they kidnap folks - men and women alike. Your friend - man, woman, what?"

"Uh, woman." Bob said. Bill pinched the bridge of his nose.

"She'll be alive."

"How do you know?" Mark asked.

"Ro. She got out. She doesn't talk about it much. She said that she was with her friend and husband. They killed and ate him, and did unspeakable things to her and her friend. Said they got bored of her friend first, and killed her after a week. How long your girl been missing?"

"Since midday." Bob said quietly. Mark felt sick again - what were they doing to her? He was positively boiling with hate at this point, and he could feel everyone's eyes on him.

"Now, I know what you're thinking, boy," Bill said. "But it's too late to go for those bastards now. Wait till the morning."

"How can you ask me to wait?" Mark asked, standing and gripping [Y/N]'s baseball bat tightly. "We're here, sitting around whilst they're... They're fucking raping her! How can I wait? She's my God damn friend, and she wouldn't be in this situation if not for me! I can't just... Do nothing."

"I didn't say, do nothing." Bill replied gruffly. "There's eight of them. Four go out looking for victims. One's always on guard. The other three are inside, butchering, raping, and doing God knows what. We've been waiting to deal with them since the flu happened. With you three, we can hit them both in and out, and make Denver somewhat safer." Bill said.

"Alright." Mark said. "But we're hitting their home base and getting [Y/N] out."

"You got it," Bill said. "For now, you three find a bed and sleep. I'll wake you up in the morning."

Mark, Wade and Bob strolled downstairs to the beds and all settled down for the night.

* * *

Up bright and early the next day, they suited up and split - Bill took Lewis, Ellis and Ro to deal with the four who would be out in the Chevy. Bill pointed out where their hideout was on the map, and Mark would have been lying if he said he wasn't itching to smash in their skulls. The drive was making him shake with rage and anticipation; he was ready to save [Y/N] from whatever hellhole those bastards had holed her away in.

Wade parked the RV a block away and they approached the derelict building. Bill had said that people had been going missing near that old warehouse for months now - and whoever had [Y/N] had been killing homeless people and those who lived alone for months. Bill had been a police officer before the flu had struck and had almost gathered enough evidence for a warrant - but it had been too late. Regardless, those monsters were going to pay.

The first man was sat outside with a cigarette in his mouth, sharpening a blade and looking away from them. They dropped behind a car when they were ten metres away, and Wade tossed a stone, diverting the man's attention long enough for him and Bob to jump him.

Mark slipped inside, turning the baseball bat in his hand as he crept forward. A door in front of him opened and a greasy skinhead stepped out, pulling up his fly. Mark instantly saw red, and his footsteps were heavy on the floor as he moved forward.

"What the-?!" The skinhead barely had any time to reach as Mark cracked the bar against his thick skull with a fleshy thud. The crack of his skull against the aluminium was music to his ears as the man stumbled and feel against the wall.

"Where is she?!" Mark snarled, gripping the bat tightly.

"W-who?" The skinhead asked, spitting blood.

"Don't play dumb with me." Mark said, drawing a blade from his belt, kneeling down and pressing it against the skinhead's throat. "Where. Is. She."

"You're too late, you fucking Asian chi--!" The skinhead choked on his words as Mark shoved the knife into his jugular. The surprised choke that came from him was sickeningly satisfying, but Mark had more work to do. He stood, returned his knife to his belt, and left the skinhead to drown in his own blood.

Footsteps, coming down a flight of stairs. Mark's grip on the bat tightened as he pressed against the wall. A weedy and short man appeared at the foot of the staircase and Mark took no time at all to smash his skull in, running at him and grabbing him before hitting his head against the stone wall until his skull collapsed beneath his fingers. Mark released the dead man, allowing him to slump to the floor.

"Dave? Ricky? What the fuck are you two clods doin' down there?" Came a voice from up the stairs. "If you fucks ain't gonna have your turn with these stupid bitches, then I'm having my turn!" Mark's skin rankled. He had to kill the last man before he ever fucking touched [Y/N].

"Mark--! Jesus fuck!" Bob exclaimed, reeling back against Wade as they spotted the dead men. "Looks like you got this."

"We'll be right behind you." Wade said. Mark nodded.

"The last guy's upstairs. I'll beat him to death, then we find [Y/N] and any other victims these fuckers have." His friends nodded in agreement, and Mark turned his attention to the stairs. He walked up the stairs as quietly as his shaking body could. To his left, he could see corpses - carved and cut like pigs and cows at the butcher. He swallowed - no sign of [Y/N] yet.

He looked right and saw the last man, sat like a slob on a bloodied recliner. Mark shook out his arms before walking up behind him.

"Ricky, seriously, what the fuck were you pussies doing down there? Sounded like you were being a couple of fa..." he looked up just in time to see Mark grinning and bringing the bat down on his face. He died with a gruesome noise, and Mark finally allowed himself to breathe.

"Bob, Wade..." Mark said quietly. "It's done. They're dead." He sighed softly as he stood up straight and walked to the front of the dead man, patting him down until he found keys. Bob and Wade went to look at the butchers kitchen whilst Mark walked to a dark room and flicked on the light.

"Hey, what the hell, man? You just threw Keisha back i--! You're not... One of them. Who the hell are you?"

"I'm--"

"Mark!" The familiar voice made his heart soar. "Is it you? It is you! I knew you'd come, I knew...." She started to blubber and Mark fumbled with the keys, letting out the older woman and Keisha first before he practically fell in front of [Y/N]'s cell. He threw open the cell door and nearly smacked his head on the cell to pull her into the tightest embrace possible, letting her cry into his shoulder.

"She's a strong one," the older woman said. "She kept saying, Mark will come, Mark will come. Even when they..."

"I killed them. Smashed in their skulls. Take weapons, my friends, Wade and Bob, can direct you to some good people - tell Bill we sent you." Mark replied, not letting go of [Y/N]. The other two women left and he held her tightly.

"You know," she wheezed. "I'm not complaining, but you're hugging me so tight I can't breathe."

"Oh, oh, sorry." Mark managed a light chuckle as he pulled slowly back from the hug. "I was so scared I'd lose you."

"I'm okay," [Y/N] said with a tight smile. "Still here."

"I know," Mark said, pressing his forehead against hers. "Come on... Let's get you out of this shithole."


	11. Everything's Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Denver incident behind you, you're finally back on the road, but for you, what happened in Denver haunts you. For your sake, the boys change the route to Cincinnati to avoid any major settlements, thus losing out on valuable scavenging grounds. But, it keeps you happy and feeling safe, and that is what really matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler? Yeah, filler. 
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

Bill and his group of survivors had taken you, Maeve and Keisha in after Mark, Bob and Wade had rescued you. You hadn't really wanted to stay - mainly because _fuck_ Denver - but the eight of them seemed friendly enough, and Mark had assured you that, no, they weren't going to eat you, and yes, they helped him, Bob and Wade rescue you, and no, he wouldn't let any of them near you if you didn't want them near.

The day after you were rescued, you insisted Mark take you back to the warehouse where you had been kept. It may have only have been for a day, but the things that had happened to you were things you didn't want to think about, let alone talk about. Maeve and Keisha had accompanied you, and when you arrived, you had pulled a six pack of bottled beer and three rags from your bag. Keisha and Maeve were just as eager to burn that shithole down as you were.

You made your Molotov cocktails and lit them, standing side by side with Maeve and Keisha, burning bottles in hand. You tossed it with all your might, and it went through a window and exploded. Maeve's shattered and burst into flames at the door, and Keisha's landed against the front, burning alcohol trickling down the warehouse front. You cracked open the other beers, leaning on a wall as the four of you watched the warehouse burn.

Two days later, you said your farewells to them, and you, Mark, Wade and Bob left Denver behind you, and you swore that if you never went back to Denver, it would still be far too soon. You were glad to see the back of that godforsaken city and to be back on the road again. The boys never asked, never dug into what happened - and if you woke up screaming in a cold sweat, Mark would be there to hold you against himself as you cried. He was your rock in this backwards, broken world that seemed determined to drown you in the deadly swell.

After four days of driving, you were on the I-80, heading west, in Nebraska. You sat in the small kitchen, pushing some beans around in a bowl. You had barely had an appetite since Denver - you could hardly bring yourself to drink, some days. Mark sat opposite you, watching you slide the beans around the bowl with your spoon. He had been so patient with you - and for that you were grateful for, of course. When you couldn't bring yourself to do something, Mark would be there, slowly coaxing you to dress, eat, drink or wash. He deserved so much better than you, you knew.

"Mark?" Bob called from the front as Wade passed a large overturned truck. "Can you come here for a second?" Mark sighed as your eyes met his and reluctantly rose to join your friends in the front. You peered at them curiously, straining your ears to try and listen to the hushed conversation they were having.

The RV pulled over in the suburbs and you glanced out of the window. You knew you were close to Omaha, and you knew the guys didn't want you to have a major freak out about going into a large city, so why were you stopping?

"[Y/N]?" Mark called, beckoning you to the front of the RV. You slowly stood, abandoning your beans and shuffling over to them. Mark set his hand on the small of your back as you reached him and looked out of the RV. "Bob and Wade are going to go and scavenge. Do you think you'll be okay here?"

You gave him an incredulous look. "Of course I'll be fine," you huffed indignantly. "So long as we don't go anywhere near the big city. I don't want to be anywhere near high rise buildings so long as I live." You shuddered lightly, rubbing your upper arms.

You moved back to let Wade and Bob out of the seats, Mark taking the driver's seat and you sitting down in the passenger seat. You pulled your legs up and crossed them, holding your shins as you gazed out across the suburban paradise. This would have been a nice place to live, once upon a time. Gardens had already begun to grow wild, even in the five or so weeks since their gardeners had perished. Homes broken into, cars trashed... Damn, humanity had really gone to shit in the face of annihilation.

"How are you holding up?" Mark asked, glancing your way. You turned to him and shrugged lazily.

"I dunno," you replied, scuffing the dash with your fist. "I'm just... Glad to be out of there. It may have just been a day, but... That was the longest fucking day of my life, and I was stuck in London during 7/7." you grumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest and seeing your feet in the seat. "I never want to think about that day. Never, ever, again."

"I understand," Mark replied. "I know it's not the same, but... It was a long day for me, too. I was fucking fraught with worry. I thought... I thought I'd lost you."

"Lost me?" you raised a brow as you looked at Mark. "You big fucking sap," you reached out and lightly punched his arm. "But, hey, mister 'I beat three guys to death with a baseball bat'... Thank you."

"For what?"

"'For what?' Mark!" you laughed for what felt like the first time Denver. "Hello, Earth to Mark, are you reading me? Thank you for everything, you great big idiot!" you snorted heartily, leaning back in the chair as you giggled.

"Oh," Mark said sheepishly, looking away. "Well, uh... You're welcome. Not that I need any thanks." he patted your shoulder and you looked at him, smiling widely. "I'm just... So happy you're safe." you gently put your hand on his, your smile turning soft.

"Me too," you replied, voice barely a whisper. "Hey, shall we catch a quick nap whilst Bob and Wade are still out? Lock the door and just snooze the day away?"

"That," Mark said, smiling happily. "Sounds like a grand idea." he stood and you were quick to join him. The space between you was non-existent, and in the spur of the moment, you pulled him into a warm hug. Mark looked down at you in surprise before he hugged you tightly, setting his head on top of yours.

"Thank you, Mark," you murmured. "Thank you for saving my dumb ass." you laid your chin on his chest and he smiled down at you.

"No problem at all," he grinned. "After all, I promised that I'd never let anything happen to you. Even though it did, I was determined to find whoever took you and make them pay. I'm not a violent man, but hurt my friends and you'll face the full wrath of Mark Edward Fischbach."

"Well, Mark Edward Fischbach, I think I hear the bed calling our names." you said pulling back from the hug, a warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest. "Come on." You shuffled through the RV, Mark following closely behind, locking the RV door.

You turned to him as you both reached the bedroom, pushing him down onto the bed and clambering on top of him. Mark raised a brow up at you as you smiled innocently down at him and laid on his chest, careful of his knife wound.

"Comfortable, are we?" Mark asked as he pulled the blanket onto you both.

"A-yep!" you replied, reaching up and taking his glasses off and placing them on the shelf above the bed. When you looked back at him and realised how close the two of you were - and it occurred to you that all you had to do was move a few inches to close said distance and kiss him. He smiled at you and you felt your heart thud in your chest - something he probably felt as well. Swallowing loudly, you cleared your throat. "Well... Mm, g-goodnight, Mark."

"Goodnight, [Y/N]."


	12. Just One Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Champaign, Illinois. Just about two hundred and thirty miles left, and the RV gives out. Unable to get another car (that doesn't absolutely _reek_ of dead body), the four of you make the decision you really didn't want to make - it's time to walk. But, there's always a silver lining around every storm cloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More than halfway there! Soon I'll have a computer.... Soooooooon.
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

Mark's warm hands roamed across your body, his lips peppering your skin with kisses, eliciting a gentle moan from your lips. Mark smirked at you, capturing your lips in his and smothering you, and, and--!

The RV jolted and you sat up, drenched in a cold sweat from your dream. Beside you, Mark sat up as well, a little more slowly than you. You would have exchanged looks with him had you been having a far less saucy dream than the one you had just awoken from.

"Wade? Bob?" Mark called, and you shuffled off of the bed, slipping your worn out shoes on. Feeling slightly braver, you looked over at Mark and sucked in a breath as he removed his sweaty shirt and revealed his still bandaged up body. You swallowed as you began to salivate, mind wandering back to that dirty dream you had just been having. A shiver drew up your spine as you looked at your knees, letting out a soft breath.

"Shit!" you heard Wade's muffled voice. He sounded like he was outside the RV... Strange. You followed behind Mark as he pulled on a shirt and buttoned it up, and you could see that Wade and Bob had the RV hood up and were staring down at what you could only assume was the engine block. There was a foul smell in the cab and you coughed loudly. Something was up. Something bad.

You stepped out into the cloudy day after Mark, who joined the other two, stooped over the engine. You set you hands on your hips as you gazed around you. You were in the middle of a crossroads in the center of some city called Champaign, in Illinois. Small, unassuming, Champaign.

The hood was slammed down behind you and you flinched, turning to look at the three men all holding their foreheads and grumbling. The engine was now spitting out hideous black smoke and you waved your hand in front of your nose in disgust at the smell.

"So, gentlemen," you said, eyeing the smoke. "What seems to be the problem?"

"She's dead, Jim," Mark said, in his best southern accent. "The engine's completely shot. She's not going anywhere, I'm afraid."

"And we still got more than two hundred miles to go." Wade said with a heavy sigh.

"So, we have to find another ride?" you asked. Bob gave you a tired, incredulous look. "Okay, we gotta find another ride. Mark?" you looked to him and he shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. 

"Right then, Bob, Wade, you two stay here and see if you can't fix this hunk of junk," he said, giving the RV a good kick. "[Y/N] and I will look for another RV or something." his eyes met yours and you grinned, easily forgetting the awkwardness you had felt earlier after your dream. You took a few steps backwards and span on the ball of your foot. Mark fell into step beside you and you smiled up at him as you hooked your thumbs into your belt loops.

"So, what're the chances we'll find a car that's not only big enough for the four of us and our stuff, but also works and, _and_! Doesn't stink of dead person!" you said, lifting a finger.

"So you should be an easy woman to please!" Mark laughed as you walked down the street, peering into every car you passed. In each, there was a rotting, long dead corpse of some poor sod who had died in the worst sole disaster in human history. You were becoming numb to it all now - ever since Denver, not a lot was really able to shake you. You had seen enough death and chaos to last you until the sun imploded.

"Should be," you grinned at Mark. "Give me food, wrap me in a blanket and call me cute, and I'm yours." you said with a dramatic swing of your hips. Mark's eyes were on you as you swayed your hips, giggling loudly.

"It'd be easier winning you than finding a working RV in this place," he observed as you passed a large market store, abandoned shopping carts strewn across the parking lot. "If we can find a mechanics..."

"Really, Mark?" you snorted lightly. "How long has it been? Five weeks? Six? As if there are places with stuff left."

"Hey, come on!" Mark protested. "A lot of the houses we've passed on the road have had things in them! What about that... That farm! Honey, smoked ham and so much dried food!"

"That's true," you said, kicking a sun bleached can down the street, watching it bounce off of a car tire and spin wildly under a truck. "I could have stayed there forever, you know. Pity we had to leave."

"Hey," Mark bumped your shoulder and you looked up at him as you both walked. "The four of us... If Cincinnati is fruitless, we'll find a nice old corn farm, and grow corn for the rest of our lives."

"Corn? Corn?!" you laughed loudly. "I don't wanna grow corn! I wanna... I wanna see the world! I'll go to the east coast, get myself a boat, head to Europe and walk across the railways. You're welcome to come with me."

"One problem with that, oh dear [Y/N]," Mark replied, holding his hands behind his back and smiling smugly. "As far as I know, you," he lightly poked your shoulder. "Can't drive a boat."

"Shit," you said, clenching your fists in defeat. "My plans! Foiled again by my arch nemesis, Markiplier!"

"But of course! Dismantling bad plans since 1989!" Mark laughed softly, bumping your shoulder again.

After what felt like hours of searching, you doubled back and headed back to the RV. You were painfully aware that your search had been nothing but fruitless. Mark seemed to light up when you suggested herding a few shopping carts to run back to the RV. Wade and Bob were sitting dejectedly against the RV, sucking down warm beer.

"Gentlemen!" Mark called, leaning on the cart and riding it towards them. "Your heroic chariot driving duo has arrived! And we have brought out salvation!" He grinned, skidding to a halt a few feet from the two of them, and you were close behind him.

"Shopping carts? Really, Mark?" Wade asked tiredly.

"Hey," Mark held his hands up in surrender. "It was [Y/N]'s idea, not mine!"

"Thanks for dropping me in it, you big turd." you grumbled at him. "Anyway... Seeing as we failed miserably in finding a new ride, or anything or anyone to fix our unreliable steed, shopping carts!" you grinned, pointing at the four carts like someone who had just hit the jackpot. "Big enough to carry our stuff, and best of all... We can ride on them, and if they break, they're really easy to fix! We, uh, borrowed a few spare wheels in case the inevitable happens."

"Besides, if we're going to walk two hundred miles, we might as well have fun, right?" Mark asked. Bob and Wade exchanged tired glances.

"I suppose." Bob said with a heavy sigh.

"Of course you suppose!" Mark said, turning to you to grin. "Come on... We're almost there! If we walk six hours a day--"

"With breaks, of course." you cut in.

"We'll probably do three or four miles an hour, so it'd take twenty days. We can do that, right?"


	13. Polaroid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You stand (reluctantly) in Indianapolis after making the decision to enter the city despite how uncomfortable you are. This time you meet a ragtag group of survivors who house you for a few nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway to the big Cincinnati! And eight chapters to go! I've never been on such a roll! Also tfw it posts itself before I finish it.....
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

Six days of solid walking through two states, through St Joseph, Oakwood, Danville, Covington, Veedersberg, Hillsboro, Waynetown, Crawfordsville, New Ross, Lizton, Brownsburg and countless other small towns, you were finally walking through the streets of Indianapolis, eyes on the high rise buildings in the distance. Coming into a large city made you uncomfortable as all hell, even with a shopping cart battering ram in front of you. Denver had been weeks ago now, but it was rare you wouldn't haven your night's sleep disturbed by the memory of that place.

"How's everyone holding up?" Mark asked, a few feet in front of you. To you left, Wade grumbled something incoherent. Behind you, Bob groaned loudly. "What about you, [Y/N]?"

"I think I need new feet and legs at this rate," you replied with a sigh as you leaned on the trolley and rode it lazily, your feet kicking off the asphalt. "You?"

"I feel alright, mostly," Mark called over his shoulder, shooting you one if his winning smiles. "I've got a, uh, blister the size of Texas on my ankle, though."

"Should we stop, then? It's still a couple miles to the city, and Bob and Wade look dead on their feet," you glanced at your other companions. Bob looked like he was about to collapse, wheezing and red in the face. Wade looked positively pale - flaky and grey and all around not well at all. "Some houses are coming up. Come on, Mark... We need a break." Mark had been the driving force encouraging you to keep going when you couldn't, but there was even a point where you wanted to curl up and die. You knew that he wanted to get to Cincinnati, but it was still a hundred miles away - at least another week of walking.

"We're almost there," Mark whined, giving you the puppy dog eyes and pouting. "Six more days, and we'll be there!"

"Mark!" you barked, making him flinch. "Look at us! We're dead on our feet! We need to rest! We need to slow down! For God's sake, Bob looks like he's ready to have a heart attack!" you exclaimed, indicating wildly at him. Mark stopped in his tracks and sighed.

"You're right..." Mark said, scuffing his foot in the floor in a defeated manner. "Let's find a house that doesn't reek of death." He said. Bob and Wade sighed in relief as the two of them stopped. You patted Wade's shoulder before you walked over to Mark and put your hands on his arms.

"Thank you, Mark." you said with a soft smile, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. Mark, head down, glanced up at you and managed a brief, if sad smile. You patted his shoulders and turned to Wade and Bob, setting your hands on your hips. "Right boys, I know we're all about ready to die, but we have to find a place to stay in for the night! We'll be checking houses without cars - cause no car might mean no dead folks!" Despite your rousing speech, Wade and Bob barely moved. You huffed loudly. "Fine. You three great buffoons stay here and I'll find a house." you grumbled in annoyance, walking away from them.

As you walked up the street, muttering under you breath, you looked at all the empty houses, imagining for a moment you were back in there suburbs of London. As much as you hated that damn city sometimes, you realised just how much you missed it. The traffic jams, the stabbings, the gang violence... As shitty as it could sometimes be, it had been your home for more than ten years. It was where your family and friends were, and if you could, you would go home in an instant.

You looked up at a house that looked promising. The front door was ajar, there was no car outside, and the windows looked clear and fly-free. You glanced down the road - the boys were a few hundred feet away, sat on the tarmac looking sorry for themselves. You snorted gently as you approached the house, chuckling under your breath and shaking your head in amusement.

You looked up just as you walked into something solid and about your size. You stumbled backwards in surprise, eyes locking with a young woman's, about your age. She squeaked at you, and you squeaked back.

"Wh-who are you?" she asked, accent distinctly British.

"Who are you?" you asked, staring at her.

"I asked you first!" she exclaimed, holding a bag close to her chest.

"Okay, chill!" you said, putting your hands up. "I'm not after your bag, and my name is [Y/N]. What's your name?" You asked. The young woman - with short hair and large, thick glasses - stared at you warily.

"You can call me Lauren." she said, not releasing the death grip on her bag. "Are you alone?"

"No, I, uh... I'm with three friends. We're all good, I swear." Lauren eyed you, finally relaxing a little bit. "Do you know of anywhere we can stay? We've been walking for days - we're beyond exhausted." Lauren bit her lip and shuffled from foot to foot.

"Okay, okay, give's a minute," she said, pulling a radio phone from her bag. "L-bear to King Kong, come in King Kong."

"King Kong here. What you got?"

"Supplies and survivors."

"How many?"

"Four. Friendly, not attacked me yet. Shall I bring 'em in?"

"Go ahead. See you back at home."

"A'ight, see ya." Lauren said, tucking the radio back into her belt. "Where're yer mates, then?" She asked. You beckoned her to follow you and jogged down the road towards the guys, waving at them. Lauren watched them warily as they pushed over the shopping carts. "So, where are you guys from then?" She asked as the guys got close.

"Los Angeles," you said, rolling your shoulders tiredly. "We're making our way to Cincinnati. What about you?"

"I was in college in Indianapolis," Lauren said with a shrug. "Originally from the UK. Obviously can't get home."

"I know how you feel," you said as you took your shopping cart from Mark. "I'm from London. I got stranded in LA after flying over for San Diego Comic Con." You shrugged lightly as Liz began to lead you through the city slowly.

"That's just grand, eh? I've had countless people bitch about how dreadfully far New York or Miami are, and less getting off their asses like you guys," Lauren said with a grumble. "How many miles?"

"Just over two thousand," Mark chipped in. "We've been on the road since just after the flu."

"'Bout a month and a half, then?" Lauren asked. Mark nodded. "And you got about a hundred miles to go. I salute you, strangers. I think David will like you guys."

"Was that the man you were talking to on the radio?" You asked. Lauren nodded. "Where are you staying, by the way?"

"The Ronald McDonald House," Lauren replied. "It's close to the university, and David has well fortified it. Bandits sometimes pass through, but we're always able to deal with them. You guys, uh, look too ragtag to be bandits."

"We're definitely not bandits," Mark said. "Unless stealing from the dead counts as bandit-like activities."

"It don't," Lauren replied. "Anyway, have your wits about ye. It'll take another hour to reach base."

Lauren was right. After another damn hot hour of walking, you arrived at a large brick building with a well fortified front door. When Lauren waved at two men on the roof, the front door was opened and you followed her in. Waiting for you was a tall black man with short hair and glasses, and Lauren exchanged a few words with him before walking off to a kitchen with her bag. The four of you pushed your carts into a small side room before the man spoke.

"Welcome to Indianapolis!" he said in a booming voice. "I'm David. I run this place and make sure everyone in my care is healthy. Lauren tells me you've come all the way from sunny California! Is it the same everywhere?"

"From Vegas to Denver," Mark replied tiredly. "Dead bodies everywhere, people looking out for only themselves." he held out his hand. "I'm Mark. This is [Y/N], Bob and Wade. We've walked all the way from Illinois, so if you could house us for a few days, that would be amazing."

"You got food?" David asked. You nodded. "Good. That's the only thing we can't provide for you. We're open to anyone who needs a place to sleep, but only permanent residents can take from our food store."

"We understand," Mark said. "Do you have bathing water? We haven't washed in weeks."

"That we do!" David grinned, leaning back. "Hey! Mona! Get your butt down here!" he hollered. "Mona's my daughter. She'll show you to a room, and the bathroom." David said as a teenager with long locs burst into the room, her chest heaving.

"What? What's the emergency?" she asked, looking at her father.

"No emergency, just some guests who need beds and a wash. Show them to a room, would you? I need to go check on Jamie." David nodded respectfully before walking off, leaving Mona staring after him with a frown.

"Sorry about my dad," Mona said. "If you guys could follow me," she continued, and you walked behind her. "So, I hear you guys are all the way from LA. Quite the feat, getting all the way here, if you don't mind me saying." Mona smiled as she led you up some stairs. "I hope these rooms are okay. It'll never be home, but," she pointed Bob and Wade to single rooms, and the two men vanished quickly into them. "I'll get you guys a room to yourselves. I bet it'll be great to have some privacy from your friends, huh?" 

"Privacy?!" you and Mark exclaimed.

"Oh! Oh no no no! We're not--!"

"A couple!" Mark finished your sentence for you, and you looked at each other sheepishly.

"Really?" Mona asked. "You could've fooled me. You don't mind sharing, do you?" you shook your head and looked to Mark, who shook his head, too. "Okay! That's good, because we have more rooms for families than for single people. Here we are," she pushed open a door and you stepped inside. It was basic, but there was a bed and that was what mattered. "If you need anything, I'll be down in the kitchen and my dad is in the infirmary." she smiled and left as Mark stepped in after you.

"How exhausted are you, [Y/N]?" Mark asked, dropping his backpack to the floor and yawning loudly.

"Very," you replied, slipping your bag onto the floor. "Shall we?" you held out your hand to him and he smiled fondly at you before taking it. You smiled back, pulling him into a warm embrace. You sighed into his chest before looking up at him. He was gazing down at you fondly. You grinned at him before pulling away and tugging him to the bed. He laughed as he followed you, falling into bed beside you. You gazed into his eyes as you lay beside him, and Mark reached out to stroke your cheek gently. "Mark, I..." You let out a warm breath add Mark smiled at hushed you.

"Goodnight, [Y/N]," he said, pulling you flush against him. You set your hands against his chest as his hands rested on your waist. "Thanks for convincing me to stop. It's nice to sleep in an actual bed."

"I, uh... Yeah." you replied nervously, heart thumping in your chest. "Goodnight, Mark."


	14. Favorite Record

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After staying for a few more days in Indianapolis, you're on the road again. You can almost taste Cincinnati (though that might be the corpses) and you know your journey is almost over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there! And I'm finally home [sobs].
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

"Did you know," David drawled over the warm fire in the garden. "I was the first American doctor to diagnose bovine flu? Chinese man had gone home to visit family, caught it on the flight home. He was dead three days later."

"To think," you said, resting your hands on one knee. "The worst disaster in human history, and it probably won't even be recorded. We'll never know how many people died."

"Billions," David said. "Bovine flu had a zero percent survival rate. Those of us who are left were just unlucky enough to not catch it."

"Dad says there's probably less than five percent of the human race left." Mona said. "My mom and three brothers all got it. I was staying with Dad at the time, so I'm pretty lucky."

"I can't help but wonder," you said, rubbing your chin. "If someone on my flight had it."

"It's likely," David said, scratching his cheek. "You fly over the day before they shut everything down?" you nodded. "Then I believe it's a damn miracle you're still with us, [Y/N]." he said. "So, when you folks heading off? Cincinnati, you said?"

"Yeah," Mark replied, stoking the fire a little. "I'm hoping my brother had the sense to get out in time, you know? And my mom and step-mom." you gently bumped his shoulder in solidarity and he smiled briefly at you. "It'd be nice to just get... Closure, you know? I wouldn't want to have driven and walked two thousand miles for nothing."

"You're telling me," you snorted softly. "I wish I could go to London, but it's a bit far, y'know? I don't think I can swim an entire ocean."

"Now if you figure out a way to get to Europe, you tell me. My eldest was backpacking across the EU for a few months before this all happened." David said, indicating vaguely around them. "Anyway, I have to go look after old Josephine. Mona, it's your bedtime, too." Mona moaned loudly, but did as she was told. "Mark, [Y/N], I bid you adieu." David said, nodding to you both before leaving.

You didn't know how long you and Mark sat in silence for, side by side, watching the fire die slowly. You turned your eyes up to the sparkling star studded sky, leaning on Mark as you did.

"We're almost there," Mark murmured, wrapping one arm around you. "One hundred miles from home. I can hardly believe it. We've travelled nearly two thousand miles. A trip that would only take a few days has taken more than a month."

"That's 'cause you brought us three morons along, you know," you laughed good-naturedly, grinning at him widely. "Can you imagine if our roles were reversed? I don't know, we're in some city in Europe a few thousand miles from London and you're on your own, and you tag along with a gorgeous girl and her two friends, you save each other on the way, then you're in Calais, sitting by the fire and thinking how close you are to your goal. And you sit, wondering... Wondering how your family are, knowing that... You'll never truly know." were you crying again? Oh, yeah, you were. Fat, salty tears dribbled down your face. You reached up to wipe them with the palms of your hands. "Look at me... I'm an absolute mess, huh?"

"Don't say that, [Y/N]," Mark said quietly, holding you close to him. "It's okay to cry. Heck, if my family are dead, you bet your ass I'm gonna cry like a big, God damn baby. I'll still cry if they're alive!"

"I'll hold you to that," you replied, wiping your nose on your arm, leaving a trail of snot along it. "We better call it a night, come on." you reluctantly pulled away from him and stood, stretching out as you smothered the fire. Mark rose after you, and trailed his hand against your arm. You smiled at him and he smiled back, taking your hand and leading you to your room. You collapsed into the bed beside him, and you fell asleep in his arms.

 

* * *

 

It was light out when you woke up. You stretched out, yawned loudly and gazed at Mark with tired eyes. He was still asleep, black hair a mess. As you regarded him, you realised just how different he looked than the man you had become used to seeing on your computer screen - he had tired bags under his eyes, and God damn was he getting scruffy as all hell. Honestly, his face was hairier than a bear's arse. 

His eyes fluttered open and a blush crept onto your cheeks as you looked away awkwardly. "Morning," he whispered, gently readjusting in the bed and his arm on you. "Sleep okay?"

"Yeah, I did, actually," you smiled, sitting up and stretching. Mark didn't move his arm from you - and it was dreadfully close to your crotch, sitting on the rise of your hip. "You?"

"I slept great. I feel like I could walk to Cincinnati today," he grinned as he sat up beside you and stretched. "Do you think they'll let me shave before we go?"

"Oh, Christ, please shave," you said. "It's getting hard to look at you without all that... out of control fuzz in your face." you said, gesturing wildly at his chin. He frowned widely at you.

"Hey, you leave my fuzz out of this!" he grumbled. "If you feel like that I might keep it this way, [Y/N]." he teased, grinning.

"No! Please, shave! You look better with well looked after scruff. Not... pubes stuck to your face scruff." you snorted as you sat up in the bed and threw your pajama shorts down, leaving you in your panties and a t-shirt. Your shirt did follow soon after, and even though your back was turned to Mark, you knew he was watching. You leaned down, trying your best to be vaguely provocative, picking up your discarded bra and fixing it to yourself.

"So, one vote for getting rid of the scruff," Mark said as you heard him shuffle from the bed. "Bob and Wade might want to get rid of theirs, too. Are you gonna sit around and wait for us hairy men to shave or are you gonna jump ship?"

"I may have to make my quick getaway now," you snorted softly as you dressed, pulling on a pair of shorts and a loose shirt. "I've been meaning to run away for weeks, but you and your dumb jokes keep me coming back for more, you know?"

"Are you sure it's not my gorgeous face?" you turned to look at Mark who was flexing and pouting at you. You laughed loudly, doubling over and shaking your head.

"You complete dork," you chuckled. "Okay, I can admit, it was maybe the face. It was mostly the fact that you could make me laugh," you smiled gently at him and he looked away sheepishly. "Not many people hold the accolade of making [Y/N] laugh in the apocalypse. You're one of three, so consider yourself lucky, mister." you walked over and gently flicked his ear. "Anyway, I'm ready. I'm going to go have breakfast while you deal with the pube monster on your face." you said, patting his cheek and walking down to where your shopping carts lay.

You dug through yours, pulling out a pack of biscuits before walking out into the garden, sitting cross legged on a stump as you munched through them. Most of the house was already awake, doing work for the day. Some people were feeding chickens, others weeding and tilling a large patch of land. You wondered if this was how you would have to live - probably. There was no easy food or meals waiting for you in the apocalypse, not anymore. You had to be self-sufficient.

"[Y/N]!" Mark shouted you. You turned to see him, Wade and Bob all fresh faced and ready to go. Jumping up from the stump, you grinned as you strolled over.

"You folks ready to go?" David asked as he walked from the infirmary, wiping his hands.

"Yessir!" you said, saluting him.

"Well," he held out his hand and you shook it. "I wish you guys luck on the road. I hope you find what you're looking for in Cincinnati, and Godspeed to you." he nodded. You nodded back and retrieved your carts and bags, getting ready and suited and booted. David waved you off as you set off through the city, Wade's face buried in a map.

"So," you said as you walked down a long road in Indianapolis. "A hundred miles, gentlemen. Five days, if we keep to our schedule!" you beamed at them. Everyone looked great after the break - well rested, smiling, healthy and full. Honestly, though, you were still tired, still sore, and so they were probably in the same state too. But Cincinnati was so close, you could almost feel it.

"Five days," Mark said, leaning on his cart and riding it a few feet down the road. "It's been what, a month since everything began? Give or take?"

"I dunno," Wade said, not looking up from the map. "I haven't really been counting."

"Let me check," you said. You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. You had only turned it on a few times - to check if there was signal. It had all been fruitless. "Well, the day I met you morons at Comic-Con was July ninth. According to my phone, it is August seventeenth. So yeah, it has been a month." you said, adjusting your hat as you looked up at the sky. "Explains why I'm sweating up a fucking  _storm_ here right now."

"You and me both," Mark snorted, bumping your cart with his. "What do you think we're going to find in Cincinnati?" he asked innocently. You shrugged.

"I don't know. I'm just hoping you guys find your families, you know? So long as you nerds are happy, I'm happy." you replied, riding your cart for a bit. "But hey! Let's make good time! No dilly dallying, lads! Put your foot to the floor! Let's get to Cincinnati in  _four_ days!"


	15. The Kids Are(n't) Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You stand on the I-74, staring up at the road sign that says Cincinnati. You've made it - just about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Six chapters left! Well, technically five because ones an epilogue, but you catch my drift.
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

"Kentucky to the south." you said, pointing at the sign on the right. "Exit number five."

"And Cincinnati." Mark said, indicating at the other sign. "East on 74, North on 275. We're here."

Standing on the abandoned, crumbling road, you looked up at the road signs as you leaned against an upturned car. Four days of hard walking, and you were so close you could almost taste the damn place. More than a month had passed since you had left LA - you could hardly believe that more than entire month of your God damn life had been and gone. You let out a slow sigh - your feet ached and your stomach hurt and you felt like you had a giant fucking knife in your brain, but here was Cincinnati.

You turned to look at the guys - each one had the biggest, dumbest grins on their face and you couldn't help but smile for them. They would now get to know whether their families were still alive or not. Whilst a pang of jealousy stabbed at your gut, you knew you had to remain happy for them - if you didn't, then what kind of person would you be? Envy was there, yes, but... they were your family now, and by proxy, their families were yours, too. At least, in your opinion. You hoped that they felt the same, vaguely.

"So..." you said, chewing on your lower lip and pushing off the car despite the protests of your painful feet. "We need to find a place to sleep. The sun is already going down," you said, pointing at the tree line, the sun kissing it gently and sending dappled shadows across you. "Are your houses close or...?"

"No, they're on the other side of Cincinnati," Bob said. "Another day's walk, at least."

"Then we need to find somewhere to rest. Let's go." you said, grabbing your cart and weaving it between cars. Mark, Bob and Wade were close behind you and for the most part, you walked in silence. Your eyes wandered into the cars, praying that none of them belonged to any of their relatives, but they didn't make any sudden noises to indicate so. Inside were the rotting skeletons, bodies falling apart. It was disgusting - but they had been dead more than a month, you supposed.

After walking for half an hour, you crossed a large, wide bridge. Mark abandoned his cart and ran to the edge. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "There's a Wendy's over there! We gotta check it out!"

"Wendy's, oh my God," Wade said, joining Mark at the side to look over. "I would kill for a shake in this heat."

"I miss burgers." Bob said with a heavy sigh. 

"Well, don't just stand there!" you said, running towards the on ramp. "I'll race you morons! Come on! Last one there's a rotten egg!" you laughed, leaping on your cart and riding it down the slightly disappointing slope. The three guys were close behind you, and you heard one of the carts fall on the grass, looking over to see Mark floundering as he tried to get it back on the road. "Looks like Mark's paying!" you laughed, feet struggling for traction on the road as you turned the cart and ran towards Wendy's.

You slowed to a stop in front of it as it came into view. Charred, burnt, crispy. Your heart sank as you looked at it, and when the three lads joined you, you could feel the disappointment in the air. You sighed heavily, putting your hand on Mark's arm as he pulled up next to you.

"Come on. Let's keep going." you said quietly, pushing your cart down the road. On your left was a cemetery - odd to see where bodies were buried rather than them slumped where they had died. Would the billions of dead ever get a proper burial, or would the roads and towns and cities just be littered with skeletons until mother nature reclaimed them? The latter was more likely. 

On your right was a school - small, probably for younger kids. You kept going and passed more buildings - shops, a church, the post office. It felt so... empty, so dead. Most of the houses here were small - one, two bedrooms, not big enough for all of you - but you were so tired that you just strolled up to the first house you saw and opened the door. It had been ransacked already - paper and broken porcelain lay scattered across the floor - but no dead bodies, and for that you were thankful.

You hauled in your carts and you and Mark set about finding the bedrooms. In them, you found the dead bodies - one small, two large. You felt sick as you stepped around them carefully, stripping the beds and dragging the quilts and blankets and pillows down the stairs again, throwing them at Bob and Wade so they could clear the front room. 

You returned up the stairs and ran to the bathroom, feeling the need to throw up in the toilet. As you did, you heard Mark behind you and he knelt down next to you, rubbing your back tenderly to keep you steady.

"Are you okay?" he asked when you pulled back to wipe your mouth with a dry towel.

"I don't... I don't know." you replied. "I think our journey and everything we've seen and done... I think it's finally caught up to me, you know? I don't... I don't know if I can keep going. My body feels about ready to just... shut down."

"Don't say that," Mark hissed, moving your hair from your face. "We're all making it - all four of us - even if I have to carry the three of you, you hear me?"

"I hear you." you said, managing a soft laugh.

"Now come on. I found some more blankets in a cupboard." Mark stood up and held his hands out for you. You took them and he pulled you up, and then into a tight hug. "Please, [Y/N]... If you need to stop, if you need to slow down, just tell me. We all want to find our families, but... I can't lose you, not when we're this close. We got a couple more miles to go to get to my mom's and step-mom's, and then... well, who knows? It depends on what we find."

"I know," you said, burying your face in his flannel and sighing. "I'm just... scared of the future, you know? We've come this far, what happens when we find what we're looking for? What if we don't find anything?"

"Then... we find a farm outside the city - you saw the cornfields, they go on for _miles_. We find a farm, we settle down, we learn the trade... and we live to a hundred, remember?" he grinned at you and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Yeah, you and me, centenarians against the world, right?"

"Right." he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently. "Come on. Let's get the blankets." he pulled away and you were left feeling empty, your forehead tingling where he had kissed you. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you followed Mark to a cupboard, holding your arms out for the blankets and pillows that he laid on you. You threw them down the stairs - no way were you going to fall down them carrying all that.

You went down stairs to see the big, comfortable pillow fort built, with Bob and Wade stoking a fire in the fireplace, putting a large pot near it. You dug in your carts, pulling out beans, beans and did I mention more beans? You loaded them into the pot and stirred them as you sat in the pillow fort. Mark, Bob and Wade pottered around the house, looking for anything useful. Bob and Wade popped out to look at the other houses, and Mark sat down heavily beside you as you pushed the beans around the pot.

"You know," he said, watching you. "When this is all over, if I never see beans again--"

"It'll be far too fucking soon," you replied with a snort. "But hey, they've kept us fed this far." you raised a glass of lukewarm water, and Mark did the same. "To beans!"

"To beans!" he echoed with a serious tone, before bursting into a fit of giggles with you. You leaned against him and sighed as the beans started to bubble. "Hey," Mark gently bumped your shoulder. "One more day, right?"

"One more day." you replied. "Now, got bowls? Spoons? These beans ain't gonna eat themselves. Oh, and shout for Bob and Wade, or the beans will essentially be lava by the time they get back." you snickered. Mark smiled and stood up, walking to the kitchen. You heard him shout out the back door for your other two companions, before returning with bowls and spoons. You loaded beans into two of the bowls, and you and Mark retreated into the pillow fort with them. The dark was comforting, as was the warmth. You wished that you could just stay in this damn fort forever, and forget about the rest of the world.

When you finished your beans, Mark put the bowls back out and came back in. "Bob and Wade are eating the rest," he said. "Said there's some good pickings in the other houses, so they'll be heading back out once they're done. We can chill in here until they do."

"Mm, chill," you said, laying back on the blankets and stretching, your stomach escaping from the confines of your t-shirt. "Let's hope tonight isn't as warm as last night. I barely slept because I was pretty much drowning in my own sweat."

"You and me both," Mark laughed, settling down next to you. He lay on his side, propping up his head with his arm so he could look at you. "Just you wait til the winter," he said. "Stone cold freezing, and it's always snowmageddon up here."

"Oh God." you shuddered, hugging yourself. "Last time it snowed in London, it was chaos! Winter of '09 and '10, that was bad - snow all over the British Isles! Snow for days!" you said, recalling the memories not so fondly. "Schools were cancelled, people couldn't get to work. The night it snowed in London, I'd made the mistake of staying at a friends house. Walked home the next day, fell over about a million times. Ended up breaking my wrist!" you laughed and shook your head. "We had a white Christmas that year, which was nice, I guess. The year after that was the same - snow, snow as far as the eye could see. Britain fell to it's knees, those winters."

"But you said you lived in New York? Winters are bad there." Mark pointed out. You nodded.

"Yeah, but I left when I was like, eleven? And again, different climate! Britain is mild, all year round. Warm, wet winters, warm, dry summers. When we get heatwaves and cold snaps, everyone suffers. That, and the economy just isn't built for that shit! Wasn't. I guess it's collapsed by now." you shrugged. "Summer of '03 was pretty bad. That's when we arrived, that year. A lot of people died across Europe because it got so hot, y'know? No air conditioning like over here - people ended up going and sitting in places like Asda and Tesco, just to escape the heat! I knew a couple kids who lost grandparents that year. It was awful."

"Britain really gets boned with the weather, huh?" Mark asked.

"Yeah," you nodded. "It was pretty hot in summer this year, actually. It got to thirty-two celsius on the first day on July. Day I flew out, I was sat in Heathrow for nine hours, right? I had to go change into shorts and a tank top because it was so hot in that bloody place! I'd gotten so used to having it nice and mild that I forgot how hot it could get over here." you said with a sigh. You reached down and pulled your shirt off, sighing. "I'm just gonna wear this tomorrow. I don't care if I get sunburnt. It's too hot to wear clothes."

"You sure about that?" Mark snickered. "It's probably going to storm tomorrow. Can't you feel the electricity in the air?" he grinned and you looked at him tiredly.

"Don't be daft," you said, poking his nose. "There's no electricity in the air. There's no electricity anywhere. Except where it's still getting it from the Hoover Dam - which we're not, remember?"

"I remember." Mark huffed as you turned to look at him. He smiled at you, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair from your eyes. You grinned sheepishly, briefly looking away before meeting his dark brown eyes again. His pupils were blown wide - but that was probably because it was pretty dark in here. There was a flush of colour on his cheeks, and you found yourself glancing at his lips as he ran the tip of his tongue over them. You found yourself doing the same - and you were surprised at how chapped your lips were. "Hey... [Y/N]?"

"U-uh, y-yeah?" you asked, clearing your throat as you voice croaked.

"What would you do... if I kissed you?" Mark asked, maintaining an air of innocence. You opened your mouth to speak, blinking rapidly as you tried to form words. Stumbled, forced little words fell from your lips and Mark snickered. "Can I kiss you?"

"You-- wh-wha-- I-- what?" you blinked at him, wondering if you were really hearing what you thought you were hearing.

"Can I kiss you?" Mark repeated in a serious tone. You opened your mouth to speak, managing to mumble something incoherent before you bit your lip and looked away. Shit, you were so awkward. You gulped and looked at Mark, holding his strong gaze as your mouth felt dry. His eyes were intense and focused on you and it made your stomach do little flip-flops. You swallowed again, and you nodded slightly. Mark shuffled closer, hands cupping your cheeks. He held your gaze for a moment longer before he brushed his lips against yours. A small gasp escaped your throat as you held your hands at your chest, clenching them awkwardly. The kiss was tender and soft, and it made your heart soar. 

Mark pulled away and smiled at you, looking relieved. "I've been wanting to do that for _weeks_ ," he confessed, tracing his calloused thumb against your cheek. "I was just scared that--"

"I didn't feel the same way?" you interrupted, finally finding your voice. Mark snorted softly and nodded, and you managed a soft laugh. "I wanted to do the same, but... I thought we both had too much on our plates, y'know, with the whole, end of the human race thing goin' on around us." you looked away, sighing contentedly before meeting Mark's dark eyes again. "Um... can we kiss again? It was... it was pretty nice."

"You can kiss me whenever you want." Mark chuckled. You felt your face light up.

"Really?" you asked, still barely believing what you were hearing. You had to be asleep or some shit right now.

"Really." Mark grinned, leaning forward and catching your lips in another soft kiss. You moaned softly, your eyes shutting as you wrapped your arms around Mark, holding him close. Mark chuckled into the kiss, moving one hand to your waist to clutch it and pull you flush against him. In that moment, it felt like you were the only two people left alive, and nothing else mattered.

"Woo, go Mark!" a familiar voice tore you from that blissful moment and you and Mark turned to see Bob and Wade stooped at the pillow fort entrance, grinning like maniacs.

"Shut the fuck up, Wade." Mark growled good naturedly, throwing a small pillow at his friends face. Wade laughed heartily as he got it full in the face, the two other men crawling into the fort with you. It was cramped now, but, a good kind of cramped. Like the RV had been.

"Now, how long have you two been taking bets?" You asked tiredly, looking between Bob and Wade as you sat up. The two exchanged glances and burst into a fit of giggles.

"Since Vegas, actually." Bob said. "Wade thought you'd get together after we found our families. I said, before. So, I win! Wade has to push my cart, too."

"Oh, Bob, come on!" Wade protested, pushing his friend lightly. "Do we even need them? They're nearly empty, our homes are a few miles away."

"We still need them," Mark said. "They have our stuff! We need that stuff!"

"Yes, we need that stuff." you reiterated. "But, you know what we need right now? To fucking sleep." you grumbled, lying back down. "Now lie down, and sleep, or I'll kick your asses out of this fucking fort."

"Yes, mom." Wade said jokingly as Mark laid down next to you. Bob and Wade lay down within touching distance, but it wasn't uncomfortable at all. The comfort of having your friends close by made you feel light, happy. 

"Goodnight, guys." you said, cuddling up to Mark.

"Goodnight."


	16. Jet Pack Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning comes and it's time. You and Mark split off from Bob and Wade - with you two going to his mom's house, and those two to their own homes. When you get to Mark's mom's house, you fear the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah writing this is so fun, you know? I just love writing so much rip
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

You woke up early, stretching out in the blanket fort and sighing happily. You glanced at Mark, still sleeping soundly beside you, one arm draped over you. You smiled at him, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair. It was getting long - but you imagined that it could be longer. Years without proper power or a haircut would end up leaving him with long, floppy hair. You did think he suited the long floof rather than the short, but regardless - Mark was handsome.

He stirred and his sleepy eyes opened, looking around slowly before they landed on your face. His eyes creased at their edges when he smiled, one of his hands reaching up and cupping your face with a tenderness you had never thought possible. You could feel the strength in his hand as he gently pulled you down to kiss you, his lips sliding ever so sweetly against yours.

"Ew, get a room." a sleepy Wade interrupted your perfect moment and you threw him a tired glare.

"You get a room." you grumbled in reply, sticking your tongue out at Wade. Mark chuckled sleepily and pulled your lips to his again, completely ignoring the wretching noises coming from his friends before the quickly evacuated the little fort they had made the night before, leaving you and Mark alone. You pulled back from the kiss to gaze at Mark with a lop-sided grin, reaching out and tenderly running your fingers through his hair. "G'morning."

"Morning," he replied sweetly, slowly sitting up and stretching out. "So, last night wasn't a dream then, huh?"

"Nope," you replied, giggling. "I was sure it was until you kissed me again."

"You know," Mark said quietly, pulling you close to him. "You're very cute when you're flustered. If I hadn't wanted you to answer me, I think I would have kissed you when you were lost for words."

"Hey," you shrugged lightly. "Either way would've suited me just great, you know." you grin at him and he pulled you into another warm kiss, firmly pressing his lips to yours.

"It's weird to think that... well, we're kissing. A little over a month ago, you were just a fan and I was just a YouTuber." Mark said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"And, had you not been a YouTuber or had I not been a fan, we would never have met, and we wouldn't be here right now." you said, trailing your fingers up his chest lightly.

"Mm, the world works in mysterious ways." Mark chuckled and stretched out, giving you a delicious glance of his happy trail and stomach. "But, I suppose we should get up, right? Big day today."

"Big day, indeed." you said, crawling out of the blanket fort. Bob and Wade were eating breakfast and giggled when you crawled out. "What?" you looked down - Mark hadn't left a hickey on you, had he?

"Nothing~." Bob snickered, exchanging a knowing glance with Wade. You furrowed your brows at them and tried to ignore them as you fished a half-eaten pack of cookies from your cart and began to munch through them.

"Any idea if they have running water here, Bob?" Mark asked as he emerged from the fort. Bob shook his head. "Hm, I was hoping for a wash. Feels like it'll rain, though, so there's that." he stretched again and dug in his cart for a moment, pulling out some Lucky Charms and scooping out a handful.

"Lucky Charms?!" Wade exclaimed. "Mark, how long have you been holding out on us?"

"I'll hold out on you forever when it comes to Lucky Charms, Wade," Mark teased, shoving a few into his mouth. "But anyway, what's the plan for today? The three of us - [Y/N] not included - have to find our relatives."

"Wade's house and mine are close to each other - about a mile, wouldn't you say, Wade?" Bob looked to Wade, who nodded. "That leaves you and [Y/N] to go to either you mom's, your stepmom's or your brothers."

"Well, from where we are now, my mom's is closest." Mark said, pulling out a map. "We're in Miamitown, here," you walked over and he pointed it out on the map. "My mom lives here." he pointed out another place, halfway across the city. "Shouldn't be too difficult. I think the worst of the journey is finally behind us, right guys?" you nodded.

"I hope so," Wade said as he swallowed a mouthful of biscuit. "I hope Molly's been holding up okay. I miss her."

"Hey, if she was alive and followed the plan, she, Amanda, Tom - everyone should be okay." Bob pointed out. Wade nodded solemnly as you looked at them.

"You guys had a plan?" you asked. Wade nodded.

"Yep. We knew about this before me and Bob left for LA." he said.

"It was simple," Bob interrupted. "If this flu gets bad, all our family members needed to leave the city - out to a friend's farm. Meet up there, bring food, water, clothes, supplies, and they'd leave us a note if they left." he said.

"And if the farm didn't work out, they'd come back home to leave a new note." Mark finished for them. You frowned, impressed.

"Well, if only I had had such a plan, eh?" you laughed gently. "Acquire plane, learn to fly plane, fly home. Simple." you joked, rolling your shoulders back. If only it had been that simple - you would be home free by now if it had been. But, you would never have been on this mostly incredible journey with three wonderful guys you had come to call your friends.

"So, it's agreed, then?" Mark asked. "Bob, Wade, you go to your houses, and me and [Y/N] head to my mom's." he said. Bob and Wade nodded in agreement and all you could do was shrug - it wasn't like you were going to argue either way.

You eventually all got ready - slipping your shoes onto blistered, painful feet, slinging bags on backs and applying sunscreen where you could. You put your hat on your head and sighed heavily. For a while, the four of you walked alongside each other, chatting idly. Wade and Bob then split off, heading south east where you and Mark headed east.

"So," you said, leaning on your shopping cart lazily as you rode it down the road a little. "Have you really wanted to kiss me for weeks?"

"Hm?" Mark turned to you. "Oh, uh... yeah. I've known that I've liked you since we left LA - you're funny and you keep pushing forward despite the odds, not to mention that, well... I think you're beautiful, too." he grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head as he did. "I think... I realised how much I cared for you when... when you were kidnapped in Denver. I was honestly surprised at how angry I was that those bastards took you." he looked down at his white knuckles as they clenched the cart tightly. "I swore that no matter what, I'd find you and I'd save you. My only thought was... I need to save [Y/N], even when I was beating those guys to death. All I felt was... was fury. And when I saw you..." he paused and looked away. You reached out and gently touched his arm, and he forced a smile on for you.

"When I saw you in that cage... I was so relieved, even though you were hurt. You were alive and I... I could forgive myself for being sick and letting them take you." Mark stopped walking and you stopped beside him. He turned to you and pulled you into a tight, safe embrace, burying his head in your hair. "I was so scared that I was going to lose you. So scared that they had already killed you. That's when I realised that I couldn't lose you - not to them, not to the flu, not to anything. Because I..." he pulled back and you looked into his intense eyes. His face was serious, his eyes dark, pupils blown wide. "Because I think I love you, [Y/N]."

An audible gasp escaped your lips. You had only known each other for a month - though you supposed people had gotten married after knowing each other less - but... the way you felt about him certainly wasn't just friendship. Perhaps the events of this shitty, post apocalyptic world had made you closer in a faster way than a normal life would have done. You licked your lips uncertainly, looking up at Mark. He probably wanted to hear the same from you, but you didn't want to lie! Anything but that, for the love of all things. 

"Hey," he could obviously see that you were floundering again like a fish out of water. "You don't have to say a thing. I just... needed to get that off of my chest." he pressed a firm but loving kiss to your forehead and it brought you down from your panic.

"I... I don't know if it's love, yet, but... there's something there, definitely." you laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck and looking away from Mark's face. "I dunno. My heart's pretty... pretty fucked up after all of this. My head, too."

"I'm not surprised at all," Mark chuckled, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. "I... If you do tell me... Tell me when you feel it's right. For me, it felt right just now. Don't... Please don't force yourself to say something you don't want to." he smiled ruefully and you frowned sadly at him.

"I know, I know, it's just... a bit of a bombshell knowing that there's someone still alive who... who might love me, you know? It's... it's overwhelming... but the good kind of overwhelming." you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. "Thank you, Mark, for being my shelter in this fucked up hurricane of a world."

"My pleasure," he grinned, his eyes watering. "Hey, I said I'd get you back when you weren't expecting it, right? Tears and snot, all over you." he laughed as he held you close, breathing in deeply. "Come on," he pulled away, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "The future awaits!"

You walked side by side, much happier than before, until you reached Mark's mom's house. Mark stood next to you, visibly shaking as he stared up at the house. The rain had started an hour ago, and you were both soaked to the bone, but he was terrified. Terrified of what he'd find within - what if his mom was dead? The uncertainty on his face was enough to make you step towards him.

"Hey," you said, putting your hand on his arm. "You stay here. I'll go look, okay?" he slowly met your gaze and nodded. You patted his cheek gently and pulled away from him, turning to look at the house. You breathed deeply, walking through the heavy rain to the front door. You turned briefly to look at Mark, who still stood fearfully in the road, and looked at the door again. You took a hold of the handle and tested it - open. It swung inwards slowly, and you pulled your pistol from your belt, holding it up as you crept inside.

You weren't exactly stealthy - you were dripping wet and the water droplets were landing on the floor - _plink, plink, plink_. You breathed in through your nose and instantly regretted it as a wave of death washed over you. You choked on your breath loudly, coughing as you lifted your hand to your mouth in a vain attempt to get the smell away from your face.

You turned left first, walking into a sitting room. Empty, no note, no letter. To the dining room - the same. Upstairs - empty, empty, empty! There was nothing that indicated his mom had left anything for him. Fear flowered in your gut as you wondered if that sickly smell could be her. There was only one way to find out. You walked down the stairs slowly, reluctantly pushing open the kitchen door. The stench was absolutely overwhelming. Your eyes watered as you held your breath. The air was thick with flies that all came you way, buzzing around you as you waved them from your face.

Around a counter, you could see the remains of someone's feet. You swallowed but felt some semblance of relief - those were definitely a man's pair of feet, so not Mark's mom. You steeled yourself and walked around the counter. The sight was disgusting and your stomach heaved. You lifted a hand to your mouth to stop yourself from throwing up - maggots crawled through what was left of whatever poor fuck had died here, his skull pale in what little light there was in the storm.

Lightning crackled and you jumped as the room lit up for a moment, then thunder boomed a moment later. You couldn't look away from the writhing, disgusting body, but you had to. You swallowed the vomit in your mouth and reluctantly let yourself breathe, shuddering. There was another body on the other side of the kitchen - and by the looks of it, another hefty gentleman. Still no sign of a letter.

You moved things from the countertop, desperate for something, anything addressed to Mark. You were about ready to give up when you glanced at the fridge - pictures and letters and school reports stuck to it with magnets, and on the top of it all, a letter. 'Mark' was written beautifully on the front, and you reached over and took it from the fridge. Should you read it? Probably not. You clutched it in your hand like it was your lifeline, and as you opened the front door again, the rain cleared. 

You practically ran over to Mark, who was sat on the sidewalk looking miserable. You ran in front of him, holding out the letter. He looked up at you expectantly as you shoved the paper in his face.

"What's this?" he asked quietly as he took it.

"It doesn't matter what it is, read it!" you practically demanded. You felt like you had enough energy for the two of you, jittering excitedly. You may have been shivering, but the sun split the clouds and sent warm sun across your back as Mark silently read the letter. His face fell for a moment before he lit up, unable to stop a wide grin from growing on his face.

"Oh my God." he whispered, looking up at you before reading the letter again. "They're... They're alive, [Y/N]!" he shouted with glee, jumping up and picking you up, spinning around on the spot as he lifted you into the air. You laughed loudly with him, holding him tightly. His happiness was contagious and you hugged him tightly as he put you down. "Alive! My mom, Tom, my stepmom, a couple other relatives. Mom says that Amanda and Molly are with them! I can't believe it! They're alive!" he hugged you tightly again, lifting you from the floor in excitement. "We, uh, shit," he ran his hand through his sopping hair as he stepped back. "Wade! Bob! We gotta go get them!"

"Hey, whoa, slow down, tiger!" you laughed heartily. "Where are they?" 

"Oh!" Mark pulled the map from his backpack and pointed to his map. "They're uh, out east, past Owensville. A day's walk, if we grab Bob and Wade now!" he grinned excitedly. "So, come on! Let's go!"


	17. The Mighty Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take a rest stop as the sun begins to set, and you have a moment of reflection before you carry on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there! I can hardly believe I'm four chapters from completion! Thank you for all the comments, the kudos and subscriptions! Love you guys <3
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

It had taken an hour for you and Mark to catch up with Bob and Wade. You had spotted them in the distance and began yellingand shouting for them. They turned and waved at you as you and Mark ran towards them, grinning excitedly.

"I assume you've got good news then, Mark?" Bob asked. He grinned widely and nodded. 

"They're alive," Mark said, holding out the letter. "My mom, Tom, my stepmom, even Mandy and Molly! They're out past Owensville - if we keep walking, we'll make it there in the middle of the night."

"But we'll stop for a rest, of course." you chipped in, leaning on your shopping cart. "Can't make it there on an empty stomach, you know? That, and it's, what, a nine hour walk, Mark?"

"About that," Mark replied. "But, we can make it through the city and find someone to rest. If we're too exhausted, we can stay there the night, depending on what you guys want."

"Fuck staying the night!" Wade exclaimed with a wide grin. "I'd walk a thousand more miles just to see Molly!" he said. You had to admit, you admired his tenacity, but you supposed if it was your husband or wife only a few miles away, you would have walked every damn mile on hot coals or broken glass to reach them.

"Well, what the hell are we waiting for?" Bob asked, raising his hands in a questioning manner. You grinned as you looked at Mark.

"Let's get moving, shall we?" he said, leaning on his trolley and setting off. You walked beside him, unable to take the grin off of your face as you did. Things were finally looking up! Their families, for the most part, were alive, and in less than twenty-four hours, they would see them again. Although you were filled with joy for the three of them, it also hurt. Your heart felt empty and cold as you thought about your own family.

You walked for four hours, making it through the main city to the eastern suburbs. You were exhausted and your feet ached, so you decided to break into a house and find somewhere to rest for a little while. 

While Bob cooked dinner - more God damn beans - you wandered around the house quietly, fingers grazing over dusty cabinets as you looked at family photos, scattered about. Whoever lived here might not have had it all, but it looked like they were happy. You supposed that was what mattered - in this world, you would never have it all with Mark. Being happy was what would count in the future.

You entered a small bedroom and pulled open a window, clambering onto the gently sloping roof. From here, you could see out across the city, and you sat down to think, pulling your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them, gazing out over the houses, the sun beating down on your back.

You must have been up there for twenty or so minutes before you heard a concerned Mark shouting for you. You hugged your knees closer to your chest and wished that the ground would just swallow you up and that you could forget about everything.

"[Y/N]? Hey, [Y/N]? You up here?" you heard the door to the bedroom open and footsteps as Mark looked for you. "What are you doing on the roof?" Mark asked. You looked over at him and shrugged lazily as he climbed out. He slowly walked over and settled down beside you, leaning against you. His hand found yours and he threaded your fingers together, tracing gentle circles over the back of your hand. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

You looked at him and opened your mouth to speak, before you looked away and sighed, looking down at your empty hand. You clenched it into a fist and looked out over the houses again as a gentle breeze blew around your hair.

"I guess I'm... Well," you glanced at him through the corner of your eye and ran your hand through your hair, trying to get it to behave in the breeze. "You guys, you... you're going to see your families, and I... I've got no one waiting for me, you know? You guys are... you guys are gonna get your beautiful reunions and I'm gonna be stood there, cold and alone and just... it's going to hurt."

"Hey," Mark pulled you into a hug and you pressed your face into his chest. "My family are going to want to meet the beautiful girl who saved my life, right? And I'm not just talking about this old thing." he lifted his shirt and indicated at the pink scar on his abdomen with his finger. "You have saved me countless times - with your smile, your laugh, even just the closeness of your touch. I don't know if I would have made it this far without you."

"Don't be ridiculous," you said. "You could've made it without me. Well... apart from getting stabbed, I guess." you shrugged lazily and looked away again. "I just feel like a burden sometimes."

"Hey!" Mark exclaimed, cupping your cheek with his hand and turning you to face him. He had a serious look on his face, but his chocolate eyes were soft and compassionate. "You are not a burden. You are wonderful and beautiful and I love you." he held you close and breathed deeply, stroking his hand through your hair.

You pulled back and met his eyes, tears in your own. He gently wiped away the tears that flowed down your cheeks, and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead. You sniffled and held on to him tightly, before you managed to break out into a smile.

"Hey, Mark?" you asked. Mark looked down at you. "You told me that... That you loved me, right?" he nodded and your heart swelled with happiness. "Well..." you met his gaze and reached up with your free hand, cupping his cheek. He leaned into your touch and smiled fondly. You swallowed, your mouth dry. "I love you too."

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," Mark said quietly, resting his forehead against yours. He grinned as he leaned forward and pressed a warm kiss against your lips. He pulled back, sighing softly as he regarded you. "Despite everything that's happened in the past month... You are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Oh, stop," you laughed softly, a dark blush on your face. "You're a big sap, you know that?"

"I'm _your_ big sap," Mark grinned and kissed your nose. "Come on. I came to get you for dinner. Bob and Wade are probably wondering what we're getting up to." he chuckled softly as he pulled back. He stood and pulled you up after him, and you followed him back into the bedroom.

As soon as you were beside him, you hugged him tightly, burying your face into his flannel. He hugged you back just as tightly, burying his face into your hair. You breathed deeply and sighed in contentment before you pulled back and smiled up at him. Mark leaned down to kiss you softly, catching your cheeks in his hands and deepening the kiss. You clung to him tightly, moaning softly into the kiss.

"[Y/N], Ma-- oh for goodness sake." Bob heaved a loud sigh as you pulled back from the intense kiss. "I suppose you did find a room, but come on. Your beans aren't going to eat themselves."

"Alright, we'll be just a second," Mark said. Bob nodded and left and Mark kissed you roughly again, running his tongue along your lower lip. You moaned softly, opening your mouth and allowing him to slip his tongue inside. He grasped at your hip with one hand, the other balling into a fist in your hair. You gripped his flannel tightly, sliding your tongue along his. Mark let out a deep moan and you caught it in your mouth, moaning softly in reply. You pulled back to breathe, your chest rising and falling as you looked at Mark with heavy eyes. "I had to do that. It wasn't... wasn't too much, was it?"

"Oh, n-no," you replied, blushing darkly. "I... I quite liked it, but, um... I suppose now isn't the time, is it? Our beans aren't going to eat themselves, remember?" you chuckled. Mark laughed softly with you and broke your embrace.

You and Mark walked down the stairs, hands still linked. You eat your beans and you set off again, the sun still beating down on your backs. You still felt awful, but you felt better than before, at least. 

You were out of Cincinnati and back on the open road again, surrounded by fields of corn on both sides. You were silent, but the boys were chatting excitedly, talking about all the things they'd tell their families about. You steeled your heart and turned your eyes forward down the road - best to try to keep your mind off it than linger on the thought, right?

"Hey, [Y/N], come here a second," Mark called. You turned to see them looking at the letter he had. "Tom stapled a map on the back - here's Owensville," he pointed it out as you walked over. "They're here," he pointed to a circled place on the map. "An hour away. We're an _hour_ away from our families."

"Well, let's pick up the pace before it gets dark, yeah?" the sun was already kissing the horizon and painting the sky a myriad of oranges, reds, pinks and purples. You walked faster - not by much, but enough to put you through Owensville in just twenty minutes - you had had to stop to relieve yourself and you were back on the road again.

"Turn right here," Mark said, indicating at a small, unassuming little road. He led the way and you were at the back, looking over the fields to try and spot where you were supposed to be headed. There was nothing overly obvious - abandoned homes and farms, but nothing that screamed 'there are survivors here'.

You followed the road, turning left and following Mark. He paused at a right turn, glancing at his letter and back up again. He carried on walking, and you passed a farmhouse. Was that not it? Mark carried on past it and you shrugged. The sun was gone now, and the sky was glittering with stars as you followed Mark.

You sighed and stared down into your cart, wondering how long your food would last you. You hadn't noticed the guys stop in front of you, and you crashed your cart into Mark's back. He didn't even glance your way. You looked between the three of them and then the farm they were looking at - surrounded by fencing and scaffolding, and you swore you could see people moving.

"Mark?" you asked, abandoning your cart and walking to his side.

"We're here."


	18. Immortals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After what has felt like a journey that even Odysseus could be proud of, you stand in front of a fortified farm, and God, does your heart hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, three chapters left! I bet you're wondering how I can spread this out, eh? Don't worry, I have it all planned!
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

"We're here."

Your eyes followed Mark's and you saw it; fenced off, barbed wire, scaffolding on the tall buildings. Whoever lived here was certainly not being scant on security. Mark swallowed dryly and his hand found yours. You turned your eyes to him and squeezed his hand, reassuring him. Every damn fibre of your being fucking _prayed_ that this was the right place, that Mark's family, Bob's family, Wade's family... that they were all here.

Mark began to walk forwards down the dirt lane that led to the buildings. Almost instantly there were shining lights in your eyes, and you and Mark both held up your arms to shield your eyes. The glint of gun metal in the moonlight caught your eye as well - definitely not something you had planned for. Words were exchanged amongst those on the scaffolding, and you wondered if they were just going to shoot you on sight.

"State your business, strangers." came a shout. Mark seemed to light up beside you, grinning despite the very obvious danger that you were both in.

"I'm looking for Tom," he called in reply, grinning at you before looking back up. "Tom Fischbach?"

"Who's asking?" the person speaking stood and lowered their gun, tilting their head at the two of you. You could barely make him out with this light glaring in your face, but he had messy dark hair that fell to his shoulders.

"Only his little brother." Mark tried not to sound too cocky. The person froze, shook his head and rubbed his eyes before looking more carefully at you.

"Mark? Holy shit," his weapon dropped to the scaffolding with a clatter and he vanished. "Open the gates! It's Mark!" he yelled. Mark let go of your hand as the gate opened, and practically barrelled into the other man, hugging him tightly. "Mark! You made it! You're alive! Holy shit!"

"You're alive!" Mark replied, slapping the other man's back. "Tom, holy shit, you would not _believe_ the shit we've gone through."

"We?" Tom pulled back and looked at you. "Bob, Wade, are they..?"

"Oh, right, yeah," Mark pulled back and hollered to Bob and Wade. "Hey guys! It's safe, come on!" he said, waving at them. It took them only a moment to stroll over, shaking Tom's hand.

"Good to see you two again! Molly and Amanda were beginning to get worried," Tom grinned and looked your way, and you found yourself looking down at your fidgeting, empty hands in a vague attempt to divert attention from you. "So, Mark, you're not going to introduce your friend here?" he asked, smirking at his brother. Mark opened his mouth to speak and closed it when he saw how nervous you looked. 

He was by your side in a moment and he slipped his hand into yours again. You looked up at him, managing a small smile. He smiled back and turned to look at his brother. "This wonderful young woman right here is the reason yours truly is still alive and kicking," he said proudly, squeezing your hand and grinning briefly at you. "This is [Y/N]."

"You never told me you had a girlfriend." Tom said, an air of teasing in his voice. Mark blushed and looked away.

"Oh, uh... I didn't, before this," Mark said. "We... We didn't meet until Comic-Con, actually."

"And we've been together maybe like... a week? Probably less. It's... It's hard to keep track of everything with your impending doom pretty much constantly hovering over your shoulder, you know what I mean?" you laughed nervously as Tom began to lead you in and a few men left to grab your shopping carts.

"You know, we almost figured that by now, you guys were probably dead," Tom said, looking over his shoulder and managing a smile. "All the phone networks went down after people started dying. Then we lost power a few days after that."

"If I could've sent you a message by carrier pigeon," Mark said, patting his brother's shoulder. "Have you seen it? The outside world, I mean. Jesus, has it gone to shit."

"I know," Tom said solemnly. "We went to Columbus, Dayton, Charleston, Lexington, Louisville, Indianapolis... It's the same everywhere. Bodies, as far as the eye can see, and people are fighting for the basics." Tom sighed. "But how have you guys been? You said [Y/N] saved your life, right?"

"I did," Mark said. "It must have been, what, three days after we met?" he turned to you and you nodded. "We were in LA and she says she hears something. Me and Wade didn't, so we shrug and we carry on and these... I dunno, they looked sick or drugged up or something - two really thin, ragged looking people with paring knives. You should've seen the fight - the man jumped me and [Y/N] hurled her God damn baseball bat at it. Wade jumped him when he was down, and the woman came at me. Got me in the abdomen and [Y/N] smashed her face and beat her to death after Wade dealt with the guy. Of course, I was on the floor freaking out at this point - I'd just been stabbed, so it was difficult to keep my cool," he said as you entered a long brick building. "But... [Y/N]'s quick thinking and skills saved me. She cleaned the wound, sewed it up and I was fine. It hurt like hell, but I was alive."

"Yeah, that's just 'cause you wouldn't stay still for five fucking minutes," you grumbled. "But, we've all saved each other countless times. Mark saved me from these... weird cannibal dudes in Denver. I was gone for less than twenty-four hours and honestly, the relief I felt when I saw him standing there, covered in blood and holding my baseball bat like his life depended on it," you sighed softly. "I think I fell for him right then and there, to be honest."

"Please, save the sappy shit for when you're on your own." Tom said, stopping at a door. "This place was going to be some offices. We've cleared out the shit and expanded it some - Wade, Molly's in here." he knocked politely on the door and Wade stepped forward, visibly quivering. A moment later, the door opened and there stood a tired Molly, rubbing at her eyes.

"Wade?" she asked, dumbstruck. Wade pulled her into a tight hug and you couldn't help but smile - you could only imagine what the two of them were feeling as they clung to each other. A month it might just have been, but the thought that the one you loved might be dead was terrifying.

"We'll see you in the morning, dude," Mark said, patting Wade on the back.

"Bob, Mandy's just in here." Tom said, knocking on another door. "Come on you two. There should be a spare room down the hall." he said, leading you down. You glanced behind you to see Bob picking Mandy up and spinning her around, laughing heartily. How lucky they were to see each other again.

"Where's mom?" Mark asked hopefully.

"Here." Tom opened a door and there sat a middle-aged Korean woman with dark hair. She turned the instant Tom opened it and you could see the hope in her eyes. Tom stepped away and her eyes positively lit up as she saw Mark. You let go of his hand and he embraced his mother fondly, and she started to cry. You looked down as your eyes began to sting with tears - you didn't want to soil this moment for Mark.

"Hey, [Y/N]," Mark's voice. You looked up to see him holding his hand out to you. You swallowed and walked over, taking his hand. "Mom, I want you to meet [Y/N]. She... She's saved my life a couple times." he smiled fondly at you and his mom threw her arms around you, saying thank you over and over again through her tears.

"He's exaggerating, really," you said humbly. "It was one time, and it was hardly a stab wound." you said, awkwardly hugging his mom back. "But it's nice to meet you! Mark's told me a lot about you."

"Has he now?" his mother asked. Mark smiled sheepishly. "He didn't tell me he had a girlfriend, though."

"Oh, uh," you rubbed the back of your neck and blushed. "We... we just started dating."

"Before the flu?" she asked. You shook your head.

"We met about a day before people started dying, and we started... well, dating, when we reached Cincinnati - uh, yesterday, wasn't it?" you looked at Mark and he nodded.

"Well, I guess we'd both been keeping our feelings in check before we got here." Mark said, before he covered his mouth as he yawned. "So, Tom, you said we had a room?"

"You don't mind sharing, do you?" Tom asked. You shook your head and looked at Mark, who shook his head to. "Alright. We'll see you in the morning, mom." Tom leaned down and hugged his mom before leading you out - but not before his mom hugged your and Mark tightly again. "Looks like mom finally likes one of the girls you've brought home." Tom snickered, elbowing Mark gently.

"Hey!" Mark rubbed his side. "She doesn't have much of a choice - I wouldn't care even if she didn't like [Y/N]." he shrugged as Tom led you down the hall a little more, opening a door and stepping inside. The room was basic, at best - a bed, a mirror, a table and a chair. It wasn't home, but it would do. At this point, you would give anything to stay off your feet for the next week and just sleep.

"I'll be heading to bed when it's breakfast, but I'll come wake you up." Tom said with a nod as he stepped back out into the hall. "It was lovely to meet you, [Y/N], and Mark?" the two brothers looked at each other. "It's good that you're home." he said, smiling and closing the door. You sighed softly as you dropped your bag onto the table and flopped down heavily onto the bed - which was a lot more comfortable than it looked. Mark did the same, sitting down next to you. You lay, staring at the ceiling before you realised Mark was crying.

"Mark?" you sat up and put your hand on his back. "Is... Is everything okay?"

"Hm?" Mark looked at you and wiped at his eyes, smiling widely. "Yeah, it is. I can hardly believe that my family are alive, you know? We've... We walked and drove more than _two thousand_ fucking miles!" he said, flopping back and sighing tiredly. "We've been on the biggest, longest journey of my life, and God do I hope we never have to do it again, but... I'm so relieved we made it, so relieved my family is alive - so relieved that _you're_ alive, [Y/N]." Mark smiled at you and you smiled back, lying on his chest.

"I'm glad you're happy." you said, setting your chin on his chest as you looked at him.

"But... are you happy?" Mark asked, brushing your hair from your face. You shrugged.

"It doesn't matter, I guess," you replied, curling a lock of his hair around your fingers. "Like you, I'm relieved... I just don't know if I'm happy," you looked away ashamedly, sighing. "I know I'm envious, what with you three guys having your beautiful reunions. To think, had we not emigrated to the UK, they'd only be six hundred miles away. Fates a bitch, huh?"

"I guess," Mark said, running his hand through your hair. "I suppose we should sleep, huh?" he asked. You nodded and slowly rose to your aching feet, kicking off your shoes and peeling your socks off. Your feet were red with blisters, sore and swollen, but you'd make sure to stay off them for a little while - or at least not walk twenty damn miles a day. You dropped your shorts to the floor and your shirt quickly followed, leaving you in a loose sports bra and a pair of Mark's boxers. "Did you-- you naughty little minx! I wondered where those had gone!" Mark said, snorting at you as he shook his head.

"Hey, I was outta pants," you said with a shrug as you crawled into the bed and pulled the sheet over you, watching Mark drop his shorts and flannel. He clambered in beside you and gently kissed your cheek. "God, it's nice to sleep in a bed knowing I don't have to walk a million miles tomorrow."

"You don't have to tell me," Mark chuckled, settling beside you on his back. He opened his arms and you shuffled to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He grinned down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Goodnight, [Y/N]."

"Goodnight Mark."


	19. Heart & Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You lay awake all night unable to sleep, thinking about the journey you've just been through. When morning hits, you realise just what happened - from realising you were stuck, thousands of miles of home, to meeting Mark, and to making it across the USA in (relatively) one piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can hardly believe this one's nearly done! And almost on time! But don't fret - I'll either try to start up my others again, or start a new one I'm cooking up!
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

Mark fell asleep quickly, but you couldn't. You lay awake, listening and watching his chest rise and fall gently with every breath. You pursed your lips - you were tired, but you just couldn't sleep, no matter how hard you tried. You weren't uncomfortable - in fact, you were more comfortable right here than you had been in the past month. But there was this small part of you that just didn't want to sleep. It wanted to think.

You saw the faces of your friends - Adam, Nina, J, Kayla. Had they been dead after all? What if they had been in the same position as you, thinking all their friends were dead? Had you left them behind? You thought of their smiling faces as you all buzzed excitedly around Comic-Con, you and Adam debating on who was the better YouTube - PewdiePie or Markiplier. J bounced happily in their Star Trek cosplay, vanishing when they spotted the panel they wanted to see. Kayla started chatting to some Game of Thrones cosplayers and ended up buying far too many prints for one person. Nina took pictures of every cosplay she saw - from the expert, straight out of the book or show or movie, to the novice "My mom helped me with this one" kids. Come to think of it... everyone you saw that day, bar three, were probably dead.

Vegas. Those poor kids. You felt a cold chill run up your spine as you remembered their broken bodies - whoever had attacked them must have had no moral compass - because, come on, who the fuck kills kids? Rafa - tall, squeaky voice, cropped dark hair, enough spots on his face to create countless constellations. He might not have liked you at first, but you had admired his spirit. He had probably thrown himself in front of his friends when they were attacked. Little Gus - spitting image of Rafa, only much younger. Dark, frightened eyes, little hands clutching onto whoever was closest. He hadn't deserved to die; he had been far too young. Naomi - a head of frizzy ginger hair, buck teeth, slightly piggy nose, freckles for days, and boy she was always scowling. You could hardly blame her - Maddy had said her grandmother had died of the flu, and she probably wished over and over that your place and hers had been switched. Maybe that would have been better.

Aya - big grin, beautiful dark skin and hair set back in long, tight braids. Helpful and sweet, she hadn't deserved her fate either. To think, what if her dads had both been alive? What if they had come back to see their daughter dead, with the other kids? Another disgusting shiver up your spine. Vipul - long dark hair, brown skin, bruises. Aya had said his uncle had left him - had he been the one who was supposed to take care of them? How could anyone have left a child in this shithole of a world? You certainly wouldn't have.

Sylvie - in the same boat as you. British, so far away from home, with terrified eyes and a soft voice. She had probably seen her parents murdered; her blue eyes held that broken look about them. If any of the kids had made you want to stay, it was her. She hadn't come from London, but when she learned where you were from, she said it made her feel a little better. Maddy - half American, half Japanese, she'd said. Her parents had met at a convention much like the one you'd met Mark at. Her father had died from the flu and her mom went to get medicine and never came home. Those poor children hadn't deserved their fate out of anyone.

Fishlake National Forest - ah, yes, the first time you saw Mark naked. Not that you were complaining! Of all the memories you had, that one was one of the more fond ones - one of the ones you found yourself thinking about to keep yourself grounded. Exploring the forest, fishing with your hands, laughing and splashing with Mark in the lake. You had probably fallen for him then and there - he kept smiling despite the odds and his laugh was infectious. You were so glad he was alive - and you glanced up at him as you remembered that day. Mark was sleeping soundly, better than he had for a while - no twitching or groaning or strain on his face. He was finally peaceful, and you were envious. You wish you could just close your eyes and sleep, too.

Denver. Fear clutched at your throat and you swallowed, holding Mark tightly. He stirred a little, but didn't wake. Those men... you didn't want to think about it. What you did want to think about - Maeve and Keisha, the two women who had kept you sane despite what had happened to you in those twenty-four hours. Bill and his people - Lewis, Ro, Coach, Ellis and his kids, Zoe and Nick. They had taken you and Maeve and Keisha in without question, and had helped Mark, Bob and Wade kill those sons of bitches who had taken you. Although you would never, ever go to Denver again so long as you lived, you were glad they had made that place somewhat safe again.

You could vividly remember the day the RV died - oh, you had been having the most wonderful dream; Mark had been ravishing you and you had been unable to meet his eye when you were rudely awoken. You had been in Illinois, Champaign - not exactly far in driving terms from Cincinnati, but you were sure you'd done enough walking to last you a damn lifetime by now. You could still see Bob and Wade's incredulous looks as you and Mark presented the shopping carts - to live like homeless people, walking your shopping cart across America. At the time, it had been a very dumb idea, but hey, it had worked, right?

And then the people from Indianapolis. Doctor David, his daughter, Mona, that distrustful British girl, Lauren. Another example of how humanity was working together rather than tearing itself apart - and oh, how it had been beautiful. Had you not been hopelessly in love with Mark at that point, you probably would have stayed - despite your differences, you were sure you and Lauren would have gotten along great, and David probably would have liked having an extra pair of hands to help him in his little clinic. But Cincinnati had only been a hundred miles away, at that point. What kind of friend would you have been had you just skipped out on Mark, Bob and Wade at that point?

Oh, walking from Indianapolis had been excruciating. All four of you had pushed yourselves to your limits, and you wouldn't be surprised if you had fucked your feet up for years to come. At least now, without having to walk twenty fucking miles a day, you could recover. All four of you were thin - you had all lost weight and now was your chance to build up what you had lost. And though you had lost weight, you had to admit that your legs were looking fucking awesome - and by that, you meant that they were toned and muscled for what was probably the first time in your life.

You remembered that night in west Cincinnati, with Mark in the pillow fort. You honestly couldn't have thought of a better place to have your first kiss - soft and tender, and boy the look on his face when you were floundering and in a panic after he asked if he could kiss you. You would never have it all, but... you knew you'd be happy. Mark made you so happy above anything else, and that was what mattered. He brought a smile to your face in dark times, made you laugh when you were sad, and kept you grounded. In a way, he felt like your soul-mate.

The sun was beginning to peek through a tiny, grubby window and you sighed. Had you really been lying awake for that long? You rolled out of Mark's grasp and stood, stripping out of your underwear and looking at yourself in the body length mirror. Bruised, scarred, blistered, sunburnt. You weren't exactly a pretty sight right now. You turned to look at your back, sighing again. You'd never have a models body, but... hey, you were alive and so was your body, and that was what mattered. 

As you looked at yourself, your stomach rumbled loudly and you imagined the prospect of a proper meal and it rumbled louder. You sighed as you picked up your boxers and bra and slipped them on again, and then you noticed Mark sat up in bed, watching you with a blush and soft smile. 

"Were you... watching me?" you asked, knowing the answer.

"I, uh... hey, to be fair, this isn't the first time I've seen you naked," Mark pointed out. "Don't you remember?"

"Yeah, Fishlake, I remember," you chuckled. "You were naked too, if I recall correctly. Got an eyeful, I did." Mark laughed as he rose from the bed and flexed.

"Yeah but you liked it." he said, making kissy faces at you. You snorted loudly and walked over to him, draping your arms over his shoulders. He sat his hands on your waist and you leaned up to kiss him. He kissed you back eagerly, running one hand up your spine. As you pulled back, he grinned at you. "I'm so glad I met you, [Y/N]. I love you."

"I love you too, you big soft... sappy... baby." you said, poking his chest. "I still can't believe we made it. If I hadn't been awake all night, I could've sworn that this was all just a dream, you know?"

"A dream?" Mark asked with a gentle snort. "I suppose it does feel like a dream. Only books and movies ever have happy endings - and this certainly feels like a happy ending, huh?" he grinned and kissed you again, lips sliding eagerly against yours. He was about to deepen the kiss as he pulled you flush against him when there was a knock of the door. He sighed loudly and pulled away from the kiss, walking over to the door and opening it. "Oh, Tom. Breakfast time already?"

"You got it, little brother," Tom said. "I'd put on a shirt, at least. Mom will help you guys figure out jobs for when you've rested well enough. Nobody sits around and does nothing here unless they can help it." he grinned and nodded to you. "I'll probably see you guys at dinner." Tom continued, patting his brother on the shoulder and leaving. Mark turned to you and smiled.

"You're probably going to be more useful than me, I'm afraid," he said. "Lovely, gorgeous [Y/N], paramedic extraordinare!" he laughed, walking over and hugging you again. "And I'm just Mark, part bio-medical engineer, part YouTuber."

"Oh, don't be daft," you replied, booping his nose. "You can be an entertainer, or do what Tom does! Heck, this is a farm, right? How hard can it be looking after animals? Maybe you could be, oh, I don't know, part of a scavenging team? You never know, right?" you smiled widely. "But... I suppose breakfast awaits. My stomach is getting excited just thinking about it."

"I know!" Mark exclaimed, grinning. "A proper meal... Oh, once I've had that, I think I can die." he sighed contentedly as he put on a shirt. "Well then, my dear?" he held out his arm for you and smiled softly. You quickly put on a shirt and hooked your arm around his. "Our future awaits."


	20. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year has passed since you made it. It hasn't gotten any easier, but it's not any harder, either. You, Mark, Bob, Wade and the other people from the farm are scraping by. You've made contact with other groups of survivors, and when Mark tells you they have electricity working, you foolishly hope you can access the internet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... Here it is, the final chapter. It's been a ride - I was on holiday, my laptop took a giant shit everywhere, I wrote most of it on a tablet but we made it!
> 
> As always, [Y/N] is your name! Enjoy!!

You turned on your phone for the first time in forever. The date said August fifteenth, 2016. Had it really been a year already? You could hardly believe it, in all honesty. A year of surviving on the edge, scraping by with everyone else. You and Mark were still together - of course. It had been difficult at times (particularly getting intimate. It unfortunately reminded you of what happened in Denver), but you made it work.

You sat at a small desk, updating medical records. Mandy had come in earlier, saying how she and Bob were probably going to start trying for a baby. It was exciting, to think how they wanted to bring one of the first new babies into the world. 

"Hey, [Y/N]," you looked up to see Bob standing at the door to the infirmary. "You got a second? Mark wants you."

"Yeah, of course." you said, rising from your seat and dropping your pen. What on Earth could Mark want you for? You knew he'd been working on getting electricity working in recent weeks with little success - it would be nice to have some lights in the dark and the middle of the night, and hot water any time of the day. You had never really realised just how much you took electricity and hot water and everything that you _had_ once upon a time for granted. It was surreal.

You walked into the room he was working, watching him plug in a computer. Beside him, a small fan was blasting cool air around the room, and you had to double take when you saw it. Was it... was it really moving? You watched it, you jaw hanging open loosely, your eyes following it.

"Awesome, huh?" Mark asked. You turned your eyes to him to see him grinning widely. "Got it working this morning! How did we ever deal with heat without these things, eh?" he chuckled softly as he stood and rubbed the small of his back. "So, uh... surprise! Here, come here," he beckoned you over to the computer and you were by his side in a moment. "Look." he pointed to the lower right hand corner of the screen.

"What, what am I looking at?" you asked.

"Look." four little white bars. You looked between Mark and the computer and it clicked.

"Internet?"

"Yeah." he grinned widely and you gasped.

"How?"

"A little bit of Markiplier magic, of course," he grinned cheekily. "You should check your e-mails. You don't know what'll be in there."

"Probably a fucking metric butt ton of spam," you replied, opening up the internet. It was slow, but it loaded, and there sat the Google home page. "Holy shit, I'd forgotten what that looked like. Was it always that ugly?" you snorted at Mark as he began working again.

"Yep, I'm afraid so." he replied, chuckling. "Red and green and yellow and blue. It never really was the prettiest of logos."

"No kidding." you said quietly, reaching out and gently touching the screen. You had become so used to the quiet life without electricity, without the rat-race, that it felt strange to be doing this. You swallowed softly as you opened up your e-mail and signed in, surprised that you still remembered your password. The page loaded agonisingly slowly and you tapped the keyboard impatiently. It had definitely never been this slow in life - not since you were very small, at least. You could practically _hear_ the dial-up sound, it was that slow.

When you looked back at the fully loaded screen, your heart just about stopped in your chest. Unread e-mails, hundreds of them, but who they were from made your heart ache.

 **MOM It's been a year sweetheart Aug 1  
** **MOM I hope you're doing okay Jul 25  
** **Dad God, I miss you, kiddo Jul 12  
** **BROTHER I wish you'd never gone Jul 6  
** **MOM Your grandma passed today Jun 30  
** **MOM [Y/N] we miss you so much Jun 26  
**MOM Why did I let you go Jun 15****

There were hundreds and hundreds more and your voice choked in your throat as you looked at the e-mails. You slowly moved the mouse to the first e-mail, swallowing hard as you you opened it.

"Hey [Y/N]

It's been more than a year since everything happened. I still remember driving you to the airport as you told me all the things you and your old friends would do. As I recall, you wanted to meet a guy called Markiplier, didn't you? I hope you got to meet him - you were so excited at the mere prospect of it. Your happiness is so infectious sometimes; I miss it in these dark days.

Your brother turned eighteen this year, can you believe it? I still remember the first time you met him; you scowled for days afterwards, saying that you wanted a little sister. You warmed up to him eventually, even though you both hated each other when you were older. He misses you, you know. You may have moved out before all this, but God does that boy wish you were still here.

I... I don't even know if you're alive. Your dad says I probably shouldn't write you e-mails - I've seen the old fart do it himself, so he's one to talk, eh? I know writing to you won't ever be the same as seeing you, but... it makes me feel like you're there, sometimes. That you're alive, somewhere on this planet, thinking about us, too. I hope you have your friends with you - or new friends, either will do. Just so long as my little girl isn't alone in the world.

But I suppose I should tell you what we've been planning, hm? I know it's farfetched, I know the chances we'll die trying to reach you are astronomical, but I can't live until I see my baby girl again - I don't care how old you are, you'll always be my baby.

Your dad and I - we've been bartering with this fisherman who still has a ship, or a boat. Whatever it is, me, your dad, your brother, a couple other family members - we're going to make the trip to America. We're going to go through every damn city and state until we find you - I won't rest until I see your smiling face again, I swear. I remember the hotel you're staying at - room, too. That's where we'll go first. If... If you're dead in there, then... 

But you're not dead. I know you're not! It sounds weird but I have a feeling, a feeling that you're... you're still alive. I don't know what you've been through but... I want you to know that I love you so much, and it should be a couple months - we might not even make it before winter depending on what the fisherman says, but we're coming to find you. It might take months, or years, but I just need to hold my little girl again.

I love you so much.

Love, mom  
xxxx"

"[Y/N], are you... are you okay?" Mark asked, voice hesitant and quiet. You looked to him, eyes full of tears and nodded. "Oh, come here." Mark pulled you into his chest and you sobbed onto his shirt, clinging to him. "Tell me, tell me..."

"M-my family," you choked out between sobs, looking up at Mark through the tears. "They're alive! A-and... and they're trying to make it to America to find me, Mark! Th-they're fucking _alive_!" you buried your face into his flannel and Mark hugged you even tighter.

"Y-you have to reply to them, [Y/N]. Let them know you're alive, that you're okay - where you are! How long are they going to take?" Mark asked. You looked up and shrugged, peeling yourself away from him to stand at the computer again. "I'm so happy for you, [Y/N]. Think your parents will like me?" he joked, standing beside you.

"Oh, they will," you managed to smile. "They better! After all, I don't plan to reach a hundred with anyone else." you said as you began to type up a shaky reply.

"Hi mom!!!

I know that I have takenf orever in replyin gto you but I haven't had power since Vegas, and I never though tto check my internet. I'm obviously okay but I'm not on the west vcoast anymore! I'm in a frarm outside Cincinnati with a lot ofg ood people. You know that Markiplier I was so excited to meet? He's with me! Don't know how, some miracle probably, but he's with me and we're aliev and uh.. well I'll tell you the rset later.

I love you too and can't wait to see you

Love [Y/N]  
xxxx"

You clicked send and flopped happily against Mark, who hugged you tightly. "They're alive..." you whispered. Mark smiled and kissed you.

"They're alive," he replied, stroking your hair from your face. You smiled up at him and wiped your nose. "That's why I didn't give up on this. I had a feeling, you know? I knew I'd be able to see you smile if I got this working."

"Well, you keep trusting your feelings, mister." you chuckled, standing up and wiping at your eyes.

"All my feelings?" Mark asked.

"A-yep!" you replied, turning to him. He was smiling sheepishly at you and was... was he reaching into his pocket? "Oh no you're going to make me cry again."

"Probably," Mark chuckled as he took one of your hands and got down on one knee. "[Y/N], I love you a lot and you mean the absolute world to me... Will you marry me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone for all the hits, the kudos and the comments! While I have been trying to reply to most comments, sometimes I feel I have nothing to say but it doesn't mean I don't appreciate it all! Seeing your guys reactions makes my writing worth it! If you have any ideas, feel free to bombard me with them here or on my tumblr (spockdropandroll) or deviantart (usbeon)! I currently have an idea in the works that I hope you guys will like :> And as always, I will see you in the next fanfic! Bye bye!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Stay Alive, Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7218658) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account)




End file.
